The Heart of War
by ActiveGalacticNucleus
Summary: No names, no past, no souls allowed. A group of elite soldiers stands their ground in a desperate battle against a corrupt government. While preparing for the las struggle, Milo, a proud front liner, will learn from Aphro that a sniper's job requires far more courage than he ever though. AphroxMilo. Warnings:(yaoi), (AU), (English is my second language)
1. Cold Blood

**In Cold Blood**

Hell is humid. The renegade freedom fighter (or so he wanted to believe) that would be soon known as Milo was finding out about it right was finally leaving behind the scattered fights in villages and borders and joining the core of the resistance, a group of twelve elite soldiers, thirteen now counting himself, that had have the entire national army on its toes for the last three years. Saga knew about the deeds of Milo´s chaotic group in one of the small villages. God knows how he had heard of Milo particularly from the center of the forest, but he had, and had taken the risk to go out and look for the kid. The young deserted soldier almost did backflips when Saga introduced himself and told him that they needed him. He didn't even listen to the descriptions of the jungle, or the hunger, or the hardness he would have to face if he joined Saga´s men. He had just yelled yes before the comander was done talking. His heart had just jumped straight to the task with burning pride and mighty passion, and now, that comander was leading him through the endless walls of plants, and insects, and vapour, and heat until they got to a lost area in the heart of the rainforest, where they would hide whenever they were not active.

-Welcome to nowhere kid, make yourself at home!

Saga moved his arm graciously, covering a nonexisting camp in a bit of the jungle no different from all others.

There, scattered over the small patches of open grass that the trees left them, where half a dozen men not older than himself. One cooked, others rested, read, polished weapons or played cards. His heart raced in excitement, as Saga pointed at each soldier and introduced them from a distance by nickname and role. Those were heroes whose deeds he had marveled at! They were there! He had met them at least! Better! He was going to be one of them!

Milo looked around, memoricing each face, each minute detail, absorbing information about those living legends like a sponge. They all looked so...human! So similar to himself! All of them, except for one. Milo´s eyes got stuck on that one´s face, and felt, right away, that he wouldn't forget it easily. He had no idea yet of how right he was. Saga´s voice kept playing in the background. He listened carefully, but coudn´t move his eyes away from the oddball of the group.

-...Mu, medic; ; Aiolos, scout; Camus, combat engineer; Shura, marine and frontman; Deathmask, former pilot, is that one playing cards and full of ink; and that one by his side...- Saga remarked those last words, noticing the new rectrite´s vivid interest in that individual- is Aphrodite, our sniper.

Saga pointed at a ravishingly beautiful man in a loose camo jaket, and Milo nodded, still wondering what such a creature had ended up among them. The man was handsome enough to turn heads! With those delicate features, those huge blue eyes, and those sunburn bruises all over his nose and cheekbones that made him look plainly adorable, the man looked like anything but a real soldier. He was resting by a precision rifle and observing his partner's cards game with a relaxed expression. That creature didn't seem to belong in that humid hell, nor near those two tanned beasts, nor in an elite force at war. His sweet lines were better suited to be kept in a museum, away from the sun and the mosquitoes and the bullets, protected by guards and by glass. The new soldier got somehow disappointed with the man for not inhabiting said museum but putting his beauty to waste in that humid shithole. And he got even more disapointed when he learned about the beautiful creature´s occupation. "Aphrodite, sniper". That was the sniper of the group. They ha donly one? Wow! Milo had heard of him and his "deeds" but he had no clue they were all due to one person! Still, he was not impressed, not by the deeds, nor by the man.

-Snipers are cowards. They just sneak attack unsuspecting targets and stay out of harm's way, while others bleed for them. A rat can do that.

Milo sentenced. He despised smooth shooters as weak and no better than rodents. Ans that was what the thin blonde over there had to be, to work in such position so proudly. On the other hand, the Greek thought while looking at the man, with those delicate hands and thin body he had, he probably wasn´t capable of doing anything else besides sneaking around and shooting from a safe distance. That kid coudn´t resist a strong wind, let alone survive in combat. On a second thought, Milo decided, maybe that position was probably the closest thing to being in the vitrine of a museum you could find around there, and that porcelane doll had have the sense of inhabiting it. It made some artistic sense.

Saga smirked, and patted his new subordinate´s shoulder with a paternalistic attitude.

-Have you ever stared of someone for minutes kid? Or for hours? Stared as they hugh their friends, as they talk, as they eat and walk, until you have learned every movement, every human gesture? Maybe you did that if you had a crush, it tends to happen - Milo nodded. That brought memories of his first highschoolçs crush, that seemed utterly out of place in the middle of the jungle- ..You learn what they like, and how they laught almost bu heart, you learn the rhythm at which they bob their head...and then...you put a bullet right in their brain.

An imaginary bullet crossed through the sweet memories, blowing the cherished moments away in a splatter of brains, and freezing his blood. Saga smiled, and patted the child's shoulder again.

-If you ever try it, maybe you'll change your mind about how much courage it takes.

The huge blue eyes, bathed in their own misterious moonlight, looked at him from the distance. Their owner smiled at him, obviously amused. The new recruit realiced that all his words had been heard, and begged Earth to swallow him. He didn´t get much success with Earth, but the snipper seemed to find his praying expression entertaining enought.

He got tired of tormenting the new arrival with his gaze, and looked back to the card´s game.

* * *

In their first confrontation the new kid almost lost both arms. He got nicknamed Milo immediately, no consent requested, and became an official member of the group. From then on, he was no longer addressed by "you" or "the newbie" or "nobodie", which were the official filler names of any new arrival until he got a nick of himself.

Nobody knew each other's name there. Nobody knew each other's age, date of birth, or nationality. If it could be helped, nobody knew a damn thing about anybody or anything else besides what was required to do their jobs. They were outlaws, and they knew what would happen if they were captured alive. They joked about it often, while also making sure they always had an extra bullet on them, or a similar "emergency way out," just in case. They always refered to eachothers by the nickname, of course. Aiolia was named after the home of the lord of the winds because he wouldn't shut up and was loud as a drunk elephant on cocaine. Aiolos was just the same as his brother but in a lower pitch. Mu got his name because someone decided that he stared like a lemur when surprised (which he did). Shaka got him for being an active buddhist in the middle of not-the-fucking-moment; really, nobody cares if the butterfly dreams of being a man while being shot at. Camus just sounded french, was really into books, and had made the mistake of mentioning that he hated Alber Camus´s work with all his heart, so, there. About Shura? You didn't want to cross him with a knife, which would explain his nickname, but Milo had overheard that him sitting on one accidentally and not being able to sit again in days had been the actual origin of it. Deathmask´s nickname... well, the guy fucking bombed people from the air and exterminated every living thing from entire areas in his old days, so not much to explain. Aphrodite´s nickname was also self-evident. The list went on for the living and the dead. A long, long list of initiation anecdotes shared around the fire. Stories of humilliation and of objections ignored until everyone had to accept the nick they had been given. They might not be the happiest bunch on the planet, but it was not for lack of trying.

* * *

That first combat had been a surprise attack that got them on the run. They had to split chaotically and couldn't recover contact in months. The word "traitor" started to run around, with nobody knowing where to point at. Then, there were six months of fights, of push and pulls, of bleeding scars and fear. The pressure from the "proper military" was becoming too strong, their troops savier and harder to surprise after three years of practice, and Saga´s plans too ambitious due to desperation. During the longest six months of Milo´s life they had shuffled groups, divided, reunited, re divided again, and got almost caught far too many times.

The enemies were upgrading their game, far too much, and it seemed to be due to a change of lider. They had a new, brilliant mind in charge of that area, a former gerrilla fighter that just knew what he was doing, and wa sgetting them gradually cornered. They had to get rid of that guy. Quick. Saga designed a brilliant plan to do that, but it would take a lot of time to prepare, and they needed a second sniper. Right now, and just because of that, they had gone out of their way and almost got killed twice just to reunite with Shura´s group in a relatively safe location. Milo would stay thereand be trained by Aphrodite to play that part.

-He is the best, but he is only one man.

Milo nodded to Saga´s words, clearly disgusted. He wasn't taking his word back. He knew that, since Aiolos had been captured, or maybe had died, he was the most precise shooter they had besides Aphrodite himself. The team needed him to play that part, and he was going to. But it was a humiliating choice to make. This was a sacrifice though, for the sake of the cause, and implied stepping on his own pride and spitting on his principles at least four times. It would be temporary, he reassured himself, it won't define who he was. Plus, it couldn't be so hard.

Aphrodite waited for them on a twisted root, cleaning his weapon with maternal care. He turned to look at them as he heard footsteps, softening his sharp glance the best he could, in honor of the company. Saga nodded at him as a salute, and smiled with comradery.

-Here he is! Do you think you can train him?- Aphrodite stood up, his eyes examined Milo.

-I can't tell.

He hadn't seen Milo since the first battle that got them splitted, almost six months ago. He barely knew the kid and, as Saga, and anyone who had killed in cold blood well knew, his concerns were not regarding Milo´s skills, at all. Skill was trainable. Character and nerve...not so much.

Milo got red with fury under the examining pale glance, something that Aphrodite both noticed and ignored completely.

-Are you sure of this, kid?- The northern asked, getting almost a bark for an answer.

-We need another snippet don't we? We need to double down and get rid of their leader before he gets rid of us; so if I have to play coward for the group, I will.

He prayed to hear back an excuse to punch that pretty face, and see if the sniper still doubted the skills after that! Aphrodite just smiled, and kneeled to pick up the pieces of his weapon, putting it back together in the blink of an eye. There was work to be done.

-I can leave him with you two weeks before you give me a final verdict. The foot troops and I are leaving in three days. he would be usefull but I can leave him with you instead, if you need time to decide if he can learn. We can't sacrifice longer than that for a maybe, though.

\- I´ll have your answer in less than two days. Just allow me "the cabin" for that time.

Saga nodded again, and disappeared, secretly uncomfortable. He had a traitor to hunt, but he was leaving the youngest of his soldiers in the hands of whom was rightfully said to be the cruelest of them all. Aphrodite would turn Milo into another murderer like him, because that's what he had been ordered to do. It was necessary, but Saga still felt responsible of tying someone up in an altar for a third person to rip their heart off as a sacrifice to the gods of war.

While Saga lamented, Milo followed the pale ponytail, in voluntary silence first, and in reluctantly forced mutism second. He spent the rest of the morning practicing with some distant targets, trying his best to impress his teacher, whom, by the way, didn't seem to be paying the sightless amount of attention to him. Aphrodite's eyes just wandered through the deep green hell that surrounded them, chasing invisible shadows and fighting gosths in his head.

The traitor, probably, Milo thought. They were all thinking about that lately, so he didn´t take it personally at first. But when his short patience run out he started to get restless. Being ignored while forced to do pointless exercises was bad enough. Being ignored and bossed around by someone who wasn´t a real soldier, since he lacked the guts to put himself in real risk, was even worse. The fact was that he had seen Aphrodite standing his ground by pistol and knife without a shiver during the surprise attack six months ago, but he conveniently ignored that memory. The rumours of him escaping from combat and abandoning Aioros to capture and death came to mind instead, and made his blood boil with stacked indignation as he saw himself shooting at stupid targets without even a loaded gun. That porcelain doll was a coward. With what autority did he even dared to command anybody at all?

The voice of his instructor put a stop to the exercise right before Milo decided to throw the weapon to the floor and confront the stupid blond and his permanently sunburned cheeks about exactly that point.

\- Follow me, I have something more important I need you to do.

-Great! Are you gonna make me shoot air in another point of the jungle? - Milo´s hurt pride barked and spitted poison. Aphrodite just smiled.

-No. I just needed you to get in the mood, before starting with the serious tasks.

Milo followed him through the green depths to a improvised closed cabin, made of thick trunks of trees arranged in a triple wall with dry leaves and branches intercalated between them. All made to absorb sound as much as possible. At least some real targets with some real bullets! Milo thought, resigned.

The sniper opened the door´s several precautions, and pushed it open. As he came in first, Milo saw the silhouette of a kneeling man against the opposite wall. He had a cloth bag on his head and his wrist tied up together with his uncles. Milo swallowed hard as the defenseless prisoner, shaked, terrified of the noise of the door and of Aphrodite´s slow steps towards him. Did he have to execute the prisoner? That's when all of Saga´s ranting about killing in cold blood came to play. Very well! He could to that! He´ll show them, he decided, while his hands shaked inside his pockets. It was just a faceless enemy after all, someone who had probably tried to kill them, who was responsible for that war, who was responsible for all injustice in their country, who supported that he had sweared to fight against! It wasn´t a person, it was a faceless monster, or a fool that just brought destruction. And, thanks to those beautiful thoughts, the young greek´s heart hardened, and the man´s shivering stopped bothering him.

Aphrodite was already moving around the room, with that calmed and confusing smile of his, opaque like a mask. He dragged a large box in front of the kneeling prisoner, and took the bag off his head. Milo could see the face of a man about double his age. An imperfect old man with bald spots and a naturally humble expression twisted by fear. The kind of man he would have asked for the time when he was a small child, because he looked safe and kind. One thing was clear, that man was not a professional soldier, and if he was...well...if he was...and he could very well be one...he didn´t look how he usually pictured the blurs of hate that his enemies were in combat. At all.

A respectable amount of valour tried to hide the raw terror that contorted the enemy´s imperfect features. "The features of a person" Milo though. On that face there were some things too big and some things too small, some lines too hard and some lines too round. It was a face he could relate to. He could easily imagine the owner of that face picking his children up from school, shuttering while approaching a woman, scratching his eyes in the morning while sharing a stinky bad breath with the world, sharing a beer at a bar with no further ambition in life than being loved and being happy. By contrast, the glimpse of Aphrodite´s perfect beauty turned repulsive to his eyes. It was a moment of insight, a revelation, like a veil that falls at least. He couldn't relate to that face. He couldn't imagine it taking beer or having kids. It was the face of a statue, of a demon, of a doll. A face so perfect it must have been crafted, not born. So perfect, it was inhuman. His eyes opened. He no longer saw the sniper as a handsome man, but as the aberration he was, and now, he couldn't unsee it anymore. He turned his eyes away from the robotic figure, thin and elegant, flexible in it´s movement, sweet in his gestures, monstruous in it all. His sympathies started to swift alarmingly fast in the wrong direction. He tried to correct himself with moderate success, wondering what that coward and repulsive allien that didn´t care to even look at him was going to do with that poor, enemy fellow human, who glanced at him begging for consolation and mercy.

Said alien turned to Milo and tapped the wooden box with two fingers.

\- Come, and sit here. I have an important job for you.

Aphrodite shifted languages suddenly to a hard and rusty greek Milo barely understood.

-I need you to spend the rest of the day with him. Talk to him. Calm him down if you can. Try to get him to talk to you about anything. From the conversation, you may pick up some useful data. I´ll be back before sunset.

Milo grabbed Aphro´s arm to keep him from moving. He felt like he was being toyed with, and he din´t like it. Besides the...situation, the weirdness of it all, made him feel vulnerable, and insulted, none of those were feelings he knew how to tolerate. His fierce stare got absorbed and dissipated by his partner´s calmed glanze.

-Hey. What does this have to do with sniping?

-You´ll need attention to details, memory, and capacity to observe and piece details together. Getting information no violently requires the same skills, that's why I am usually the one in charge of it. We are in a hurry to check your abilities though, and since this will measure all I need to know and needs to be done anyway, I thought I´ll give you a try at it.

-What am I looking for, exactly?

-Nothing specific, just earn his trust for now and get him to talk about himself, when I came back we can keep build up from there.

After a brief staring contest, Milo loosened his grip on the other soldier and accepted the explanation, feeling a little more relaxed. He sat on the wooden box in front of the prisoner, and tried to calm him down, with very limited success. As the evening went by, he found that his task was far more enjoyable than expected. He spent the first hours observing the man, noticing his particular ticks and unique gestures. Since he couldn't get him to talk or stop panicking at his every move, there was not much else to do. Eventually, the poor victim calmed down a little and allowed himself to maintain with his captor a small and superficial conversation that gradually deepened, due to both the need of finding comfort in another human being, and Milo´s natural sympathy. The prisoner, Albiore, was the youngest of three brothers about whom Milo soon learned all posible details, starting with what they did when they were little and how they got caught doing it. He had two adopted sons, a boy, and a girl, that lived beyond the border, in some secret safe place. He also confessed, with eyes glittering of hope and plead, that the dream of his life was to vacation in the mediterranean. He had dreamed of it since he saw a picture of Greece in an old magazine when he was a kid. His eyes sparkled when he allowed himself to dream that he could make it out of this situation alive and see Greece one day. He even confessed that he kept, safe in a small drore by his bed, a traveler´s catalog of the Greek islands from ten years ago, since before the war started. Milo had to fight every fiber in his soul to keep himself from telling the man that he came from Greece, and from pouring out his memories, and desires, and the wild homesickness that the man had awakened in him by talking about white houses and bright blue sea. He suddenly wanted to let the man go, take a plane and a beer with him, not necesarelly in that order, and show him every corner of his beloved land! He would love the food, and the streets, crowded but livelly, and the cloudless sky!

Aphrodite came back in while Albiore was telling Milo about those two street dogs he had been buying food for before he got destined there. He had been afraid of dogs since he was a child and got bitten by his grandma´s Great Dane, but he had managed to overcome that fear out of pity for the state of one of those two lost souls that wander around the garbage cans of the base. The poor thing was obviously suffering some painful skin condition and almost being eaten alive by parasites. He wanted to take the dog to the vet when he got back home, but he had no clue on how to get it there, since there was no way the animal would let anybody approach it, not even him. Aphrodite did not interrupt the talk, for Milo´s happiness, he just closed the door quietly and walked towards them, standing right behind Milo in silence.

The greek had forgotten what his mission was at this point, and was going on and on about some ingenious suggestions on how to capture Albiore´s sick dog and getting him to a veterinary without anybody getting hurt. His instructor let him finish, before, discretely and kindly taking one of Milo´s hand towards his back and leaving a small, cold object in it. Then, he whispered in greek.

-Now, shot him in the head.

Milo felt a shiver and stood up in indignation, or tried to; Aphrodite held his wrist with a painful iron grip Milo didn't think that pretty hands could possibly exert, and twisted his arm while pushing his shoulder down with the other hand, to keep him from turning and Albiore from seeing the gun.

-I am not going to..!

-Don´t change language- the sniper hissed in his ear, cutting him in the middle of the sentence, wishing he could cut him in the middle of the throat- and don´t turn! We are already going to kill him, he doesn't need to enjoy the anticipation of it!

Milo´s heart started racing, while the pain in his wrist helped heat his blood even faster than usual. He wanted both to run away and to turn and beat his partner down to white pulp. He bit his lip instead doing either, and tried to keep his mind clear. He was a soldier, after all. He couldn't just give in to those impulses and attack an ally, he repeated himself, trying to control the fire in his veins. He had killed before and he could do it again. If the man deserved it, of course. Only then.

-What has he done?-he asked in greek, with his heart still racing in revolt- Why do we need to kill him? Who is him anyway?

-I musn't tell you.

-What?

-When you are out there you won't always know, there is no time, or there is no way. You will just have Saga's orders, or the word of whoever transmits his orders to you, and you'll have to trust that blindly. Knowing why you shoot is a comfort blanket we can't depend on. You may even know the reasons and not agree with them but you have to shoot anyway. That is how orders work.

Milo swallowed hard, controlling his nerves with a cold rage that Aphrodite misinterpreted by actual self control. The sniper loosened his grip, inviting disaster. His partner stayed on the box, but not for long. Not at all.

-It was a lie right? The whole thing about noticing details, and getting information by talking to him. This was your plan all along.

-Yes- the box flew away.

-You, sadistic bastard! F***ng tell me what he´ve done!- the sniper didn't move an eyelash, but his glaze was lightened up by a revengefull sparkle.

-I thought...that you said this job was easy. What is the problem?

Milo glared furiously at that inhuman face, and then stormed out, enraged and repulsed from the deepest of his soul, hiding the gun from Albiore in the process, with his teeth pressed tight, cursing the storm of feelings and thoughts that was raging through his head, and cursing the old catalogue of the greek island, tidily kept in it´s drore, covered with the illusion of years, with some corners folded and some lines underlined in color.

Aphrodite was left alone with the soon to be corpse. The scandinavian soldier just kicked the box around without annoyance, to move it to a place more of his liking, and accommodated himself there, with his legs crossed and his back against the wall,. He didn´t know for how long he would have to wait, so better be confortable.

He didn't blame the kid for his reaction. He knew how that felt quite so well, but he didn't blame himself either. Milo had to go through it if a mission was going to depend on him. Killing in a combat, even killing while in hiding but still knowing yourself at risk was really different from killing in cold blood. The adrenaline, the complete dehumanization of the other, the fear, the knowing you need to save your own life at any price, the blurry red vision, the urgency...it all made close combat killing easy, but they didn´t help you when you were hald a mille away, safe, and you knew it. They didn't veil your reason to keep you from knowing that you were playing demigod from a safe cloud and killing an unique human being that you've gotten to know and differentiate from everybody else, because that´s what selective targeting requires you to do. For them there were none of the excuses that foot tropes used to shield their sanity. And, in his view, after long years of doing it and probably after his sanity had taken quite some blows it couldn't handle, he believed that was the way it should be for everyone. If you get into a combat, if you claim by word or by actions that your cause is worth killing for, you must understand that you are killing people,not faceless minions or dehumanized avatars of evilness. You have to understand it, and kill them all the same, or just refuse to kill and go home. Deciding that you cause wasworth killing for, but only under some circunstances in which people didn´t look like people was hipocresy of the worse kind. Aphrodite respected those who refused to kill a fellow human, refused violence at large, and went home. He understood them, and respected them deeply. He also understood and respected those like himself, that chose to kill anyway, and was quite confortable knowing that, one day, he´ll lose his life to one of them; he didn´t resent his future murderer. But everything else was a monstruosity, word games, mirrors and smoke! Everything else wouldn't allow you to breath calmly and understand it when someone else killed you for other a combat or from a distance, killing them "honorably" or by treason, enemies were humans all the same, and death was death all the same.

Milo didn't came back that night. His mind was all chaos and noise, but he did came back at dawn, almost twelve hours before the time limit Aphro had asked Saga for. The sniper heard his partner´s footsteps from the inside and recognized them for their rythm. That he hadn't lied about; memory and attention to detail were an important skill for them. He hadn't lied about him being in charge of almost all peaceful interrogations either, he had just blurred out the details. Milo opened the door without looking at him, walked straight to the prisoner who had dozed out slightly, and that looked full of hope when he saw the young soldier he had shared his dreams with came into the room. Said soldier came to an arms distance of him, with liquid fury in his eyes, pulled a gun out of his pocket, centimeters away from the victim's face, and shot. The triple walls took the bullet and silenced the sound, while the prisoner brains splatter against the wood. Milo turned to look at Aphrodite with burning eyes and trembling lips pressed together. Aphrodite took that piercing glance as he would take a bullet he was expecting; just resigned to the pain, taking it in silence and without struggle. There was nothing he could say, or do, to easy Milo´s anguish, he knew that far too well, so there was no point in worrying about it. The kid just had to go through it.

-Are you sure you want to continue with this?- He paraphrased himself, trying to make his voice sound as comforting as possible. Milo took that thone by mockery. He tightened his fists, rose his chin pridefully, and pressed his lips tighter, trying to keep his watery rage in check. He didn't talk, even though he already knew what he wanted to answer, because he feared that the tremor in his lips could get out of control if he dared to speak. He had admired that serene beauty in front of him for a week. Now he hated it with all his soul.

-We still need a second snippet. Don't we? Then, I´m still in.

An electric sting crossed Aphrodite´s heart, and ramified into a million ant bites that tortured the tips of his nerves, as he saw Milo´s jaw tremble, the struggle in his eyes, contained in place just by raw determination, and the pieces of broken pride falling all over his soul. The pain he saw in those young eyes made his own skin curl, sending shockwaves that twisted his relaxed gesture in an instantaneous rictus of pain before he could get a grip of himself. Bits of his own memories he ahd worked ahrd to burry tried to resurrect, and he almost coudn´t send them all to the grave again.

The pain was great, but the determination holding it back was greater, and that impressed Aphrodite most of all. He felt the impulse to bow in front of Milo, to let him know that, from that instant on, he had earned his unconditional allegiance and his deepest admiration. He wanted to make official that, right then, right there, he was feeling more respect by that man, that child, whatever he was, that was shaking at the very verge of tears and feeling humiliated, than for half his partners combined. But, again, that would only make things worse. He just advised Milo to get some rest, and talked to Saga after taking care of the corpse. The kid was not ideal, he explained, but, if there was nothing better, he could be worked with.


	2. Routine

**Chapter 2: Routine**

* * *

 **Warning**! There will be the man to man relationships here ^^ and some swearwords.

Aphrodite proved himself to be a patient and caring teacher through thick and thin. Even his reluctant pupil had to give him credit for that.

For the last ten days after the incident, he focussed on technique, weaponry, and target practice on small animals and birds. Milo knew that the change of focus was a way to give him some mental rest, there was never the scarcity of human targets if the sniper had wished to go that way. During the day, they practiced tirelessly, and during the evening, they lied under the stars and talked about the why and the what and the how: of the weapons, of their craft, on each other, and of the Goddamned war. They talked a lot about what sniping meant in a unit. It required a different mind frame than being on the front lines, Aphrodite explained, and it was the epitome of cowardice and of being a rat, the greek summarised. The more he knew about his new duties, the less he liked them. Nevertheless, his honest personality appreciated how his partner avoided sugarcoating things for him. Aphrodite knew quite well at this point which ones of his opinions would repugn the Greek soldier, but he exposed them anyway, and Milo valued that to no end. Those conversations under the moonlight were Milo´s favorite part of the day. Aphrodite was polite, fond of jokes, and had a placid attitude towards things that helped Milo slow down a bit. He had came to really enjoy the sniper´s company, and still, he couldn't like the sniper himself.

Beneath that sweet and calm temper, as sweet and calm as his appearance suggested it would be, there was a soulless monster. He wished he hadn't noticed. He wished he could be properly thankful for the kindness he received every day, without shadows of resentment. He wished he could honestly enjoy the northern´s company, his beauty even, without knowledge of the inhumanity underlying them both. He wished they could bond, be friends, it would make it all easier, but there is no going back from knowledge and he knew he was dealing with a monster. He couldn't forgive that deceptive beginning. He couldn't forget the pain. Pulling that trigger had hurt like if he was shooting his own heart. He hated that relaxed smile that lived in Aphro´s face permanently, static as if it was drawn on, and completely meaningless. He hated those flips from laughter to seriousness to laughter again that Aphrodite went through in just a snap of fingers, as if nothing in the world really mattered, as if he was a floating corpse that just lets the waves take him wherever they may. Nothing bothered the sniper, nothing. Milo had tried to get under his skin out of desperation, and failed. It was soothing and refreshing sometimes, but, was it human? Did that man even care for something? He hated his appearance too, as a summary of all the above. Those dazzling eyes, bathed in their own moonlight, those features so perfect that could only belong to a monster, caused so much rejection in him that, under the leaves and the stars, he often had to look away just to be able to sustain a civilized conversation.

Aphrodite was loosely aware of the rejection, but it didn´t surprise him. It was all to be expected and bounded to get worse as the training progressed, so there was no point in worrying about it.

He was also aware of the dance they both held every night, lying on the grass one beside the other. It started at different times every night, it lasted for different lengths, but it was so clearly patterned he could almost hear the beat of the music between them. He could mark, and often did, the rhythm of the song with taps on the grass, while the dance moved on, step by step, the same sequence repeating itself to the infinite.

One, two, three: Milo would throw a hard question at him, to give him the chance to make an excuse for himself and be redeemed.

"-Is it true that you abandoned Aiolos to death?"

Direct and to the heart, always. It was hard to get offended though; you could feel the desperate need to connect that came with it. It didn´t ask for an explanation, it begged for an excuse, any excuse, and promised just to swallow it. Deep down, Aphrodite wanted to give the greek that consolation, not because he cared about how his actions were perceived, but because the other needed it to the point of pain. He could see it in Milo´s eyes, read it in his voice unconvincingly distant, and give him consolation would be so easily...But that would not help the group. He must give in, and he knew that. He was there to build a good replacement of himself and cool blood was the basic requisite for that.. The last thing they needed was Milo reinforcing his impractical mind frame and getting them all killed.

Four, five, six: He would fetch redemption off, sometimes with humor, sometimes without.

"-Do you mean if I retreated, or if I´m a monster in general terms?-he smiled at the stars- Yes, I did retreat while he was being captured."

Most of the times he could have phrased his answers in a way that allowed them to click on Milo´s wishes without even lying, but he actively did the opposite. He got out of his way to make the truth sound as raw and cruel as possible.

Seven, eight: Milo got repulsed but refused to accept the answer, and pushed him to repentance.

Nine and ten: He would push back.

"-What, do you mean...like...You just left? You were there and left?"

"-Well...Yes, that´s what retiring usually means. I left"

"-But...How could you do that!? You just..left a brother in arms like that?"

"-I could, because I had to. Shura was also in trouble and I had to cover him first, he was in a better position to scape, but doing that gave my position away. Once Shura was safe I didn't even had time to shot Aiolos dead before I had to move or I would be dead too"

"-What do you mean you had to move? Couldn't you...just go down and try to help him? You said you had experience on ground combat"

"-(sigh) I could, but that would have been insane. There was almost nothing I could do for Aiolos, with no surprise factor, and no shooting angle. We were too outnumbered. If I had stayed, there would have been far more chances of me getting captured too, than of me saving anybody, and we would have lost two men instead of one. Four, if we considered that Shura and Deadmask needed coverage to retire, and if I was captured or on the ground, they wouldn't have it. Four versus one, was a gamble we just couldn't afford"

"-This is not math Damnit! It´s a friend! I could never leave a partner behind"

"-I know. That´s why you can't be trusted, yet"

"-It´s not that simple! How could you abandon one of us?"

"-Because I couldn't abandon two of you."

Then a turnaround, and you start over again: Milo would snap, and calm down, and be more thankful for the honesty than furious for the words, and try to reach out at him again, to redeem him somehow according to that stupid frame of honor he kept clinging on.

One, two, three…The greek would throw a question at him, begging him to excuse himself

"-Do you think about it much?"

Four, five, six…He would refuse to do so

"-No, if I can help it."

Seven, eight…

"-So, you don't regret anything?"  
"-Shura and Aiolos went out of the plan, I wish I could still beat the crap out of them both for a week just for doing that. I also wish I had had time to kill Aiolos before he got captured, but I did not, there is no point in lamenting it."

"-We can still save him if he is alive. He will resist until then."

"-Don´t joke about it. Let´s pray he is not"

"-Let´s pray he is! He would rather a little pain than death, and so should we!" At this, the sniper broke out laughing. It was along really amused laughter that he tried to control and failed. Milo was beyond annoyed.  
"-A little. You have **never** been tortured. Right?"

He would tap, tap on the grass, following the beat of their steps. Milo would go over and over again, through a chain fo emotions that kept repeating itself. Some mornings he wondered why he subjected himself to those nocturnal dances over and over again, but the truth was that he enjoyed Milo´s company. He liked the kid, with his nervous temper and his mouth twice the size of his common sense. He was growing protective of Milo; maybe a little too much. Even though their conversations were like being under fire, it felt like friendly fire if it happened with that partner and in the moonlight.

* * *

The door of the cabinet opened. Deathmask found Milo wrestling to assemble the pieces of some over complicated nocturnal rifle. Aphrodite was linning against a wall at the other side of the room, holding a stopwatch he wasn't even looking at. The pilot entered with quick pace, and changed some rushed words with the northern that Milo made sure to overhear: Shura and him had found some suspicious footsteps, and them both were leaving downstream right then in a scouting mission. "We may have to move to Shaka's sooner than we thought" he said. They worried that the enemy might be circling them way tighter than what they thought so far. Ideally that mission would require five people, and they would be only two, but leaving or staying without knowing the perimeter would be insane, and they needed at least two people to protect the camp. All their resources were here. Aphrodite nodded and agreed to all of it, teeth pressed with inner lip in between. His math gave the same numbers than Deathmask´s. There were no better options. Each would have to do the work of two men and a half out there. Well, his partners had been in worse scenarios. They were the best, after all. They had also failed and gotten almost killed in easier ones due to stupid mistakes and accidents. They were human, after all. He sighted, almost imperceptibly. His arms wrapped around the pilot´s waist with a lazy movement and pulled him closer, until they were chess to chess. It was a bored gesture, like a morning stretch or a culinary shake of hands. This was routine for them, even if it shouldn't be for anyone. Deathmask allowed himself to be dragged forth and hugged Aphrodite, way less passively than how he had been hugged.

-How long, and where?

-Until dawn or more, and clockwise from northeast. We will use this as a coverture base. This party is gonna be pretty intense. We'll probably need you, kids.

-You always do.

Mask smirked, and they both kissed good bye long and tender, while Milo rolled his eyes at the other side of the room, disgusted at too many levels.

Those "interactions" weren't unusual there, especially among the men who had been in the fight for longer, but he still didn't get it! According to Shura, he didn't get it because he had left civil society just six months ago, while most of them had been locked in that jungle for almost four years, without seeing a human being they didn't have to kill, besides the twelve of them. That, without even counting the time most of them had previously spent locked in places far worse than that jungle before coming to it.

The Greek himself recognized Shura´s words as an entirely plausible explanation for several things he witnessed around there, but still, he thought, there had to be limited, and DeathMask was meant to be the lowest limit for anyone. He didn´t see how the lack of women would make people, who never felt attracted to men before, be "inclined" towards one another. It made no sense to him, but whatever, you don't argue with a guy who can kill you in seven different ways using only a box of girl scout cookies, and all his partners fell into that category...so whatever floated their boat. The most important part of the current point, however, was how any amount of isolation, pain, unsatisfied sex drive, thematic instincts, or total despair could make anyone ever touch the Italian with a five-foot-long stick. He might find Aphrodite's impossible beauty repulsive, but there were still levels of repulsion, and no amount of aberrant perfection could compete on equal ground with that Italian when it came to be repugnant. Everything else, even Aphro´s inhumanness became pleasant to the senses if it was put side by side with that man. It appeared candid even!

He didn't like witnessing his partners touchiness, anyones. Whenever Mask was involved he felt like throwing up, but, when it came to Mask and Aphrodite together, the effect was infinitely worse. There was something morally wrong with those two freaks even approaching each other. The contrast between them was so sharp that it hurt in the eyes. There was something so contradictory in those over tanned and rough fingers traveling through that pale cheek, on those rough hands holding that flexible body tight, almost lovingly, that seeing it messed with your head. Such opposites shouldn't coexist at the same time and place, under the same physical laws. Reality should explode each time it happened. It felt just unnatural, Milo´s gut made that clear by flipping upside down and kicking dinner upstream, and Aphrodite was guilty of consenting to it!

At the other side of the room, neither soldier cared much about how natural their high was. They had been comrades for too long even to process each other's appearance anymore. This had nothing to do with sex or attraction. It was fear of losing the little you have left. Well managed, well-controlled fear. Living it through someone else's eyes somehow made it more comfortable. Yes, it helped.

-Good luck. Tell Shura, too.

-Good luck to you, Blondy. You may need it...You are our last line of defense, again...

-Don´t worry. If they came here, they are not making it out alive, no matter what. You know it.

The Italian swallowed dry with those words and tried to smile. A routinary dry swallow, for a routinary situation.

-I do.

He bathed in Aphrodite´s eyes, in the comfort and the care and the fear in them. His dark hand caressed his partner's cheek again, covering it much for Milo´s repugnance and Aphro´s comfort. The sniper did the same, swimming in that fierce look that danced in the edge of madness, and pressed his face against the caring hand of his friend, enjoying the touch, slowing down his breath, pulling himself together thanks to that warmth, and letting his friend do the same.

Aphro felt his partner shake under his hands, the Italian lined to kiss him again, a closed lips "good bye" "I don't want to die either" "let´s hope for the best." They waited, lips together, soft caresses with shy hands until Mask couldn't feel his friend's breath moving up and down until Aphrodite couldn't feel his friend's hand tremble anymore against his pale skin. Then, he palmed the pilot´s shoulder strongly and got palmed back. Goodbye, they said with that, and Deathmask left right through where he came. They knew that it could be the last time they saw each other after years side by side, while, at the same time, it was so with enough frequency to count it as a boring chore.

There was something so contradictory in moments being both possible preludes of your life being shattered occurring every week, in knowing that when it´s the last good bye, you won't be able to tell it apart from all the boring ones, that it was unnatural. The contrast was so sharp that it hurt in the eyes. It messed with your head, week by week, year after year it had been messing with theirs until they couldn't tell how "normal" felt anymore. Such opposites shouldn't coexist at the same time and place. Reality should implode every time it happened. It was impossible. And still, it was the daily bread for all of them.

A clinging sound dragged Aphro´s attention away from the empty void at the door. Milo had dropped the pieces of the weapon, which just refused to make any sense since the Italian had broke in the room. He was frustrated by his failure, and pretty upset by the show; upset, apparently, by an unbearable contradiction.

-Do you need a hand?- The answer was two fierce eyes demanding an explanation.

-No! ...Really… You know? I get the whole not being women around thing, nominally, at least, but...Really. I need to ask. It doesn't explain...that!-moved his hand towards where the pair had been- That was fucking disgusting!

To be mad or to be amused, that was the question. The sniper pressed his teeth and went for the latest, not without effort. He smiled, and kneeled besides his student, collecting some pieces that were scattered all around. If Milo had known him better, he would have noticed the laziness in the movements, the small delay with respect of what would be their normal speed of Aphrodite´s gestures. He would have appreciated a small but significant increase in how long it took him to answer, and how suspiciously smooth and sweet the words sounded. He would have guessed, from that, that he was not witnessing an exhibition of light-hearted indifference, but of self control. The problem is that he didn't know the sniper. Milo hungered for a reaction, any reaction, to a subject that was upsetting for him, and was not getting it, so he went out of his way to hunt for it in territories that were not nearly as safe as he thought.

\- What part of it bothers you, exactly?

-The guy is ugly as hell! Or worse than that! Why the hell do you fuck him?! And...yeah, How? Not like he looks like a woman under any light! A sasquatch at best!

The sniper stopped what he was doing and smiled again. For a second, Aphrodite saw himself knocking down Milo´s front teeth with the back of the rifle. "Crack", and then a white and red rain would fall on the floor. It would be very satisfying to see, indeed; so much... Stepping with his boot on the rest of the teeth would be even better. Normally, he would have found the comment about Deathmask funny, but not now, and not until he saw Mask and Shura make it back alive.

-So?

-So what?

-What does that have to do with anything? How he looks, I mean.

-Well, you fucking kissed him right there! And you sleep together - Aphrodite rose a brow.

\- I sleep with him because I trust him, and because either one of us could be dead tomorrow. Looks are irrelevant there.

-Really? Just...because you trust him?- He took air and let it out, so obviously that even Milo noticed.

-"Just"?….Milo...In this place, I would fuck anyone I trusted enough, while I still can.

Milo did not get the depth of either answer, he didn't even get the direction it was pointing at. There was no way he could get it though. The kid was bright and fierce but had only been six months with them. He had suffered and blended. He had starved, risked his life, been afraid, and he had almost died, but he had never been alone through any of it. He hadn´t been alone and lost in gray moral áreas, in his mind, in unknown territory, in real hell. He couldn't understand what trust meant for those who had. A concept larger than life. Only the seriousness and dignity in that sentence, that would sound like a cartoonish joke in the outside world, helped him notice that he was missing something. It kept him thinking for the rest of the week. He saw for the first time that there was something, something important about the twelve of them that he was totally missing. Something that explained why the twelve of them had been stoic through things worse than anybody could imagine, but were going almost crazy at the thought of having a spy. The northern put the rifle down. A strange spark in his eye, a concentration of memories, a touch of pain, a twisted smirk growing on his lips, and his fury dissipated.

-I don't think you have been here long enough... Keep working on that. If you get stuck, I´ll be outside.

Milo was left with his rifle and his thoughts, but not for long.

* * *

Stars had barely turned five degrees when the blonde stormed back inn. He pushed Milo aside unceremoniously and mounted the weapon in seconds.

-Get that one there! And whatever the fuck you are comfortable with! And follow me!

He rushed out. They needed to get to a high place. A high place away from the direct separation between camp and the densest parts of the forest around them, or they would be easy to locate and have their hands tied up. They couldn't get much into the woods though. Aphrodite had identified and memorized all suited positions for this job right before the setted the camp, as usual, but he didn´t know all the places they were being approached from, so he didn´t know how far they could go or in what direction. Being caught in the middle of a climb meant death on the spot. He cursed under his breath, chose a tree that offered some options to move to nearby ones branch to branch, and indicated Milo to follow him up. Had he been with another professional, they would have spotted to different points of the camp. Oh yes! That would have been optimal, no doubt. Being together meant that their efficiency was cut almost by half, and that, if one was discovered, they were both dead. But he was not with a professional, and considering Milo´s temper, Aphrodite felt that the best warranty of survival was keeping him at an arm's reach. They climbed up, and got positions barely in time. Aphro saw his prophecy became true when the first dark figure appeared through the edge of camp and Milo raised his weapon. The northern pushed it down with two fingers on the cannon and a gaze that could pierce stone.

-Don´t shoot! We are too close to them and the angle will be obvious. You'll give our location away.

He hissed, cursing in thoughts again for being forced to make a sound in that bloody situation, but he could read in Milo´s eyes that a lack of explanation was going to be far worse. He hated fighting in the jungle. He had no angle to work, there were trees cutting his range almost everywhere. If they were in the open he could have taken care of this almost two days ago. He ranted mentally, as more and more dark figures poured in from every side of the camp. "Outnumbered" was a comic understatement there. His blood began to run cold, thinking about Deadmask and Shura, and for an instant he forgot about the greek clock bomb that was standing right by him, grinding his teeth together as he looked down,a t the invaders searching the place at their pleasure. Milo couldn't understand what they both were doing there if they just were going to watch the place being without as much as a move. He looked at the sniper, in frustration and in rage. Aphrodite seemed as relaxed as when he first met him, kneeling in the branch without moving a muscle, his eyes glancing over the perimeter to check when the parade of enemies was over and where they came from, as he had been watching the cards game that late fall. Milo wanted to protest. As soon as his lips opened he got a stare so fierce and cold that would have silenced a meteorite impact or the explosion of an atomic bomb. It still wouldn't silence him.

-We can't let them do this- the Norsemen just put a finger on his soft lips, wishing he could punch the greek without risking being discovered. Milo ignored the sign, as he had ignored the gaze before it. His cheeks were red with rage and his blood was boiling- We are just going to stay here while they take..!.

-Yes. We can, and we will. Let them do whatever they want. Just count them and memorize where they are leaving through. If worse comes to worse, we can hunt them down later. And shut the fuck up!

Milo liked his lips, uneasy. In the middle of his mental rebellion he had noticed that his partner wasn't even moving if he could help it, so he kept revolting while staying as static as possible, for his mentor´s relief. The intruders kept walking around their territory, searching for clues that he hoped were not there, and taking with them all they could carry. The Scandinavian counted them, checked all possible exits, checked how fast they moved through each jungle area, the things they took first, their body posture, their general health condition, and how many came from the northeast direction. None from the North. That could be either great or bad. In the greek´s mind, that all read as "doing nothing." His frustration sled through his teeth again, like his appreciation for the northern dropped down to negative numbers.

-This is humiliating!- he hissed, as he watched their things get looted

-Yes-Aphrodite stared into his eyes, shocking the greek into silence by the uncharacteristic passion in his voice- It is. And we are here to take it in silence.


	3. Routine (part 2)

**Warning:** A lot of swearing.

Even though Milo wouldn't have believed it, Aphrodite was as frustrated as him. Under the relaxed surface he hated watching this, he was nervous and proud, that is actually what made him so effective. He had learned to channel the restlessness and urge to act into mental energy that now collected data from every minute detail he saw. His pride was not smaller than Milo´s, nor was his urge to kill every last living thing under them, but had better self control. Life had hammered that into him with systematic brutality. That hidden rage kept him from hating his partner too much. He understood how it felt and where it came from.

One of the individuals got an eventual radio transmission, and they started marching out, orderly and through the same routes they had came from. Aphrodite approved of their discipline, mentally, a compliment for the soon to be dead. He rose the cannon of his weapon slowly, almost too slowly for a gesture that wasn't meant to be enjoyed. An imperceptible relaxation at the corner of his lip turned it up when he was allowed to release the grip on his pride at least. Milo didn´t see the small and wicked smile, but he noticed the change in position of his partner through the corner of his eye. A wave of excitement run through his hurt dignity and burning nerves. He raised his weapon too, and lined towards Aphrodite with an attentive ear.

-Pick a line….Aim to the first man in it, or close to him- The mentor whispered, trying to control his satisfaction as he had controlled his pride. A growing and monstrous smile was covered by the rifle- We want them to think that they are being attacked from the front, so they retreat towards us or around us. That would give us more time to get rid of all before they go out of range among the damn trees. Don´t shoot too carelessly though, recharging takes time, and they are close enough to do some damage if dying takes them too long-he quickly checked for understanding with a quick gaze- We'll wait until the first one is almost out of our range… Ready…?

From self consuming hate and curses Milo got pulled into working mode so rapidly that he couldn't even remember how a firearm worked for a couple of confusing seconds, but he fucking enjoyed it. There was a sweet taste in his mouth and a nervous tremor in his hands. He recovered quickly, charging the rifle with inexperienced hands, under Aphrodite´s vigilance. That man seemed enjoy the superpower of keeping track of his target and his partner at the same time. He was rumored to be able to do virtually anything and keep track of his target at the same time.

Milos technique with long distance weapons was still terrible, and the kid was so tense that the canon shook intolerably for Aphro´s standards (imperceptible for anyone else) But this was not a tremendous range shot. It would do.

The leader of a line walked away from the place with the tip of Milo´s rifle perfectly aimed to his head. Aphrodite smiled involuntarily, adrenaline rushing through his veins as he counted his target´s steps and calculated the angular distance between nearby heads. Before even being done with that one his brain had already calculated the exact sequence of movements he would have to do to move from that head to the three next, before they dispersed in panic. Time was golden there.

A word fell from his lips at the right time, soft and light like a rose petal.

-Now

Two explosions of blood in two different regiments. Three more in one during the instants of confusing paralysis after the first one, all blooming in the green like red flowers at high speed. Then a next one, and the next after that. The rest was chaos and cats hunting mice. One of the columns scaped southwards and was left alone. As far as it went south, Aphro didn't give a fuck. Milo had his heart racing, his head spinning from the unusual mixture of adrenaline and a static body. This was different than killing Albiore, way easier, but still different than firing rounds to open your way, hopping abstractly to hit somebody without being sure of whom or when. Here, the connection was direct, and immediate. You knew the who and the when because you were looking straight at it. Whenever you pushed the trigger, someone would die in front of your eyes. And that was, both, atrocious and intoxicating. It was the purest taste of power! Corruption inyected straight to your soul, especially after the silence and the self control and the pride swallowed. First you were humilliated like a worm and now you were almighty. You were their God! His mind, dizzy enough already from the high of the fight couldn't decide on what to feel, what to do, what to think about the disgusting rush of joy he was feeling. By his side, Aphrodite was just smiling and going with the high, and that tilted Milo´s balance towards satisfaction, and even competition spirit. His personality shutdown for overload, his mind just went back to the most basic instincts it had and followed the pack, even if the pack consisted on a single souless robot.

The surviving men in those two lines dispersed, dropping everything they were carrying so far. Milo was satisfied, put the rifle away and caught his breath, hoping his thoughts wouldn't catch up with him anytime soon. His partner was far from relaxed. He pierced the depths of the forest, ears attentive to the smallest sound. There was a third group they hadn´t gotten rid of. Those men could be far south now, or could be right around them. That would be the most likely option. They had retreated, and then came back.

Both trains of thought got interrupted by gunshots from afar, East direction. Milo reacted as expected, Aprho grabbed him, alarmed, before he could leave and jump to ground. The greek struggled. That was not expected! His partner was forced to push him back against the trunk. The brieph fight moved the branches. The tree shaked. Aphro got pale like death itself and closed his eyes, as if that could eliminate the movement magically, praying to the nothing he believed in they wouldn't be seen. It was futile, he knew. Nothingness is not usually into miracles, and from close distance he could hear the steps he had been waiting for, walking straight in their direction.

-Dont-move!

-Those are Deadmask and Shura!

-I-Fucking-Know-Don't-Fucking-MOVE!.- it wasn't a human voice anymore, it was a feral growl between teeths; fierce enough, bitter enough to tame even Milo´s resolution. The greek sat back down, slowly. He thought for an instant that Aphrodite would kill him right there if he didn't, and he was right.

The sniper closed his eyes and pushed his head against the trunk behind him, both cursing and resting. His hands were shaking, for the brutal rage he felt against his partner, for the panic rush that had filled his blood that had him tense like a bow cord and wouldn't leave anytime soon. He was useless with hands shaking like that, and the sounds in the background weren't helping. At that point, he hated Milo with all his heart, while the alluded was looking at his face, uglyed by the wax color it had gotten all of the suden, and was finally, finally! starting to realize that maybe, maybe, the other soldier was not a killing robot, but a human too, and so, not immune to pressure. He started to realice that the northern felt fear too, that had other expressions besides smiles, some wide eyed and ugly, and that maybe, maybe, he had completely fucked up. The unbeliebable epiphany about his mentor´s humanity came to him as his partner's lips turned opaque white. Aphrodite had the same neutral expression in his face, but small hints, small tensions here and there proved that he was absolutely terrified.

Milo could see him with an accelerated breath, for the first time since they met. He saw his delicate collarbones moving up and down over the line of the camo jacket, and something in that dryed his mouth. Even if he had no idea about why their situation was so bad, the greek froze still as a response, and tried to remember the conversations through their pleasants nights, to figure out what he was meant to do next without having to ask. Yes, he had, obviously, fucked up somehow. As for Aphrodite, he was trying to breathe slower and recognize that, liked it or not, right now Milo´s obliviousness to every fucking aspect of that situation turned him into the best shot of the two.

-We can't leave-He whispered, resigned, and hoping to get his voice covered by the distant shots- They count on us being here, and they assume they'll get coverage if they came cose to camp. They are operating on the bases of that. If we move without communication we´ll sabotage whatever plan they may have. No matter what, we need to stay here.

-I was just trying to move closer to them, those pelotons were huge, they may not make it..

-Do you even listen?

-Why can't I leave and you stay?

-Because...right now we are surrounded by survivors. We saw three lines. We killed two, and not completely. They are fighting a fourth one. The third is..- a shot, roaring over the rest, coming from real close- ...looking for us...If you try to go down you'll probably die before you hit the ground, and I die right after if they just look up. Even if I don´t, I need two people here, one to cover for them, other to cover for us- The words came between breaths, he was too scared and too worried to even be mad- So, if you play hero and die, it´s me after you, and after us, those two; you´ll have killed the four of us... You can't play hero from the back lines Milo, you are not betting only on your life anymore; you need to be the rock for the front ones to came back to, and that means being alive.

Another shot. Closer. The greek looked down in remorse, the information, the expectation, clashed with his instincts in a contrats impossible to bare. To spice things up, his mind was turning the "pack mode" off, and thoughts about the killing were catching up with him. The nature of his thoughts about the recent massacre, the sudden weakness in his limbs, were all letting him know that his conscience had never left him. There it was, contained by his nerves, but disgusted and alive. It all mixed in a spectacular collision that pulled his nerves to rags. Plus, Aphrodite had politelly accused him of murdering Shura and Mask if they two ended up discovered, and he was probably right.

-I´m sorry.- The word seemed so tinny! So unfit for what he might have done! But he meant it. He meant it with all his heart. Aphrodite knew that, and smiled to his pupil, his heart rate almost down to something he could work with.

-If we all survive, it is okay. But now listen, I _need_ you with me. I need you do as I say, from now on, or they won´t make it out alive.

There was another shot; this one didn´t come from the distant fight Shura, and Mask was holding, or, more probably, trying to get away from. It came towards them, from less than five meters away.

"Don't shoot back" the northern was going to whisper, but there was no need. Milo watched his thought in mid-air, and just glanced at him, interrogatively. They couldn't fight back if the others were so many and so close to them, the greek remembered that.

-What now?

-Nothing. Wait

-What?

-Stay still, and wait.

-... We...let them...We may get killed while we just stay still like rabbits.

-Humiliating, huh?- The snipper´s lips curved up in a tired and sad smile, more authentic than all the others Milo had seen him use, combined- Yes, we may.

"But it´s the best for the team" Milo completed the sentence in his head with Aphrodite´s sweetest voice. He bite both his lips, holding them between his teeth, and stayed still. If facing the enemy takes guts, he had never, ever have suspected how much of those it took to know yourself under fire and reachable, and just stay still. He looked at his friend; his beautiful hands, seemingly so relaxed over the weapon were paler than usual and had small ticks of tension from time to time. His lips, his face, were pale too, and his eyes were feverish and filled with a sick glow that no longer looked like moonlight. Aphrodite was scared, for his comrades and for himself. Scared and furious. When in tension and in fear those perfect lips just didn't look inhuman anymore. The curve in them, even though it was beautiful still, reminded him to something he could relate to. Even more, it rang a bell. He had seen that gesture before, all of them, they were just far more subtle, far too well concealed for him to notice...but they had always been there. The greek felt he was starting to understand some things. The sniper looked at him, misinterpreting his stare as impotence and fear, or maybe interpreting it better than Milo himself. He smiled, comfortingly, displaying the perfect domain of his body that the greek now knew was artificial, while small bits of tension here and there escaped, revealing what was going on inside.

\- You can always pray, if you need to do something.

-I don´t pray. God has nothing to do with this.

-Me neither

There was a soft spark, a connection in the solitude that those words implied when you are about to die, that they couldn't find through their midnight dance

\- You can think of sex then. Or imagine in technicolor how you are going to blow those fucking ashole´s head when they get just three steps away. That one works for me

Milo smiled back and found confort for the first time in the relaxed expression of that artificial mask, until it contracted suddenly. Aphro´s teeth snapped shut trying to cage a whine before it could escape out, and his voluntary muscles tensed to the point of pain to try and keep the others from moving the body. The sound died between those white lines of razor, guillotined for the best, and the back of the sniper remained against the trunk while Aphrodite felt warm liquid moving down his leg. He took the pain with a touch of relief. His only hollow prayers were for the blood not to stain the fabric yet. Red on green was awfully easy to see.

"Don't move" he was going to hiss in prevention, but he didn't have to. For his surprise Milo was still. Pale like a corpse now, eyes wide and shining with terror. Ah, yes, the familiar terror of not being sure if it had been an unlucky accident or if they could see you just fine. He knew it. he was currently enjoying the effect even though to a lesser extent. Wondering about that and staying still..it pierces through your guts like melted iron. Milo was feeling right that, he knew, but wasn´t moving. Good child. He would have smiled at him if he had felt capable of it. The pain was good though. It told him where he had been hit. It told him from where it must have came. A good approximation, a nice open line in what he deemed to be the right direction. If they had range he must have it as well. He almost felt his fangs grow as he turned into a hungry animal.

-Are you…?

-Hush...

The distant combat move closer. It scattered almost all over the surrounding area. Aphrodite's hand, cold like ice, moved over Milo, knowing that his instincts were about to betray him again. Carefully, slow like a sloth, the northern moved his rifle aside and pulled a shorter weapon out of his belt. More imprecise, but much faster.

-They will came. Shura and Mask. Don't cover for them right away, but aim and be ready. When you hear me shoot you can go too- The greek nodded, unconvinced, but too mentally exhausted to fight against what he was being asked to do. He pushed the guilt aside and forced himself to divert attention from the freezing cold hand on his, and from his partner´s leg.

One of his partners showed up in the almost open field. Deadmask. All was too fast and too slow. Aphro counted a fraction of a second almost, for the guns that pointed at Milo and him to move towards DeathMask, using his friend as a bite. When he calculated it was time, praying for the enemy to be a slower aimer than he was, he went out of coverage with the short weapon and got hell loose around the tree. The before careful soldiers that surrounded them were now out of cover and confused, not knowing which side to look. Those seconds of confussion were enought to get them killed from one side or the other. Milo reacted at the first shot from his partner and got one of Mask's followers out of his back as it came out of the forest. The rest was chaos and noise, like a party of firecrackers, both in Milo´s head and outside of it. He couldn't even say or see, what on Earth was going on a second before or a second after the present. He reacted at the moment but was not part of it. Minutes and minutes and minutes of the stupid spectator role that sees it all from avobe but can still be killed. Minutes of the insanity, cranium crushing pressure of not shooting to keep yourself alive, but to keep your friends alive, of knowing that each mistake wouldn't kill you but would kill them. He saw the field like a demigod. He saw for the first time what was going on around him when he was in combat. He noticed how little he knew before, how narrow his view was when he was fighting on the ground. He saved the life of his friends more times that they would even suspect. He got high on it. All patients made sense now that he had kept Shura from death! He then failed shots, Shura was almost killed twice because of that, and his soul sank down in the most profound panic and remorse. Then, he saved DeathMask and felt worthy of life again. Then he had to change amo and took forever, and when he looked back, Shura was on the floor, beyond range, and beyond all help. He just stared, not moving, not jumping to the ground to run and help him. Just leave him alone in the mouth of death, cause there was nothing he could do, Aphrodite's voice forcing him to do so from within his skull. It worked. The voice did the job and forced Milo´s soul through the path of thorns that is turning your back to a friend in need. Up and down. Up and down. Around and around like a frantic dance of the devil with his mind. All he could see, among the confusion and the noise was that something was wrong, really wrong, in all of that.

Aphrodite lined back against, after minutes that felt like years, his ponytail almost loose and his neck covered in sweat.

-I´ve got this now- He managed to say between heavy, exhausted breaths- You can go to ground if you want. I can cover for all of you.

He didn't have to ask twice. Suddenly, jumping in the middle of a ruthless carnage, in which he was outnumbered and in which any mistake would be payed with his own blood, instead of in the blood of others, felt like a present from God himself.

* * *

-We better get moving, no time for wounds-Shura hurried them, using a large branch as a crutch.

-There is always time for that. I´ve already cut one leg and I don't feel like doing it again, so grab some leather and whiskey and put your ass somewhere clean. Blondy, you go next! You hear me?- Deathmask was turning corpses around as he lectured the rest of them, in search of identification plaques, and also of cigars.

-Yes, mom!- A little north from them, Aphrodite examined the enemy's pierced skulls and the bullets on the ground with an approving glance.

-Say that again and you'll find a fist up your ass- The Italian laughed, with a nervous pitch at the edges of the smile, while his annoying friend went back to inspecting shot wounds.

-Not bad at all- he muttered, amazed of how precise his pupil´s shots had been. Saga was right, he had a Hawkeye, he just need to get those feelings under control.

Milo was walking back over the ground field he had been fighting on, trying to dodge the flashes and memories of the first panoramica of a battlefield he had ever had, when sura came and hugged him. For the first time since he had became a professional soldier he was checking how many times he would have been killed if he hadn't had a blood reed angel guarding him from above. Getting rid of dangers he didn't even knew had been there. He was both amazed and terrified. As Shura squeezed him quickly and then went his way, he thought about how many times he had been the angel that night. The memory collided with his recent memories of being shot at while forced to remain static, of Shura on the ground, of all his mistakes. A lot of things were changing in his head that night, so fast, so violently, that he had already puked twice.

* * *

-Wow, you really left the kid knocked out-Mask looked at the blob of blankets resting by a tree. Aphrodite emptied his glass in one move, still far from drunk enough for the pain in his leg to stop.

-He is not used to handle tension without moving yet. He will.

-He did a great job,..do you think he is ready?- Shura wasn't drunk enough either, even though his words were already a little pasty to the ear. Aphrodite passed him the bottle, generously. After all, his leg looked way worse.

-Ready? No, not even close.

-He didn't hesitate in the fight- The scandinavian shooked his head, in disagreement.

-Because he was upset. It would have been different otherwise.

-Upset? That is too childish a reason to be okay with shooting someone.

-Do you even talk to the guy?

-No, but you do talk too much with him, I must say. Far more than necesary.

-Whatever, ladies- Deathmask interrupted. His patience in conversations was legendarily small, especially if he was the only one sober- Look Shura, I don't want to go to Shaka's either, but if he has prisoners they can practice on, and the kid needs it, then the kid needs it and we have to fucking go there. I also think he looks as soft as a fucking baby, if you ask me- The italian would have emptied his glass to reinforce his point, but he wasn't hurt and didn't have one, which made his mood far worse- Besides, you two need medical help and I do need whiskey. Mu can provide both and he is at Shaka´s, so we are fucking going.

There was a moment of silence Shura and Aphrodite staring at their liquor, Deadmask staring with envy at their glasses, all thinking about the same, heavy shadow that clinged over them. What they had encountered that night was not a scouting group, was not even a perimeter checking one. Those guys were far too many. They were getting ready to build a perfect trap, and if Shura hadn´t find that footprint in the mud they would all be dead for now. Somehow, the enemy knew they were there, and it had known it for days. Theoy wouldn't believe the traitor could be any of them, and Milo had not touched the radio. Plus, it didn't make sense, to ask for an attack on your own camp. But Shaka´s group knew where they were.

-Aiolo´s little brother is with Shaka, right?-Mask commented, not even him wanting to tackle the issue directly. The others nodded- He does have a reason to try an negotiate. He is a bloody idiot and thinks his brother may be alive- Shura shook his head in disagreement.

-No, that is not like Aiolia. He would never betray us...plus, he couldn't keep a secret for his life, you know it. ...Mu is pretty tired of the Goddamned war though. He had said so several times. He wants out, we all know it- Aphrodite frowned after putting another glass down before intervening, far less bothered by the pain than by the current conversation.

-We may just have fucked up. We are all pretty tired of the goddamned war, that doesn't make us traitors.

-Are we all?- Mask rose an eyebrow, slightly amused- No, we are not, and you know it. You two love this just like I do. You can´t do anything else, no one of us can; If you were fucking gave a life you woudn´t know what to do with it besides running to the first war you saw - Shura rolled his eyes, not even considering the argument, but Aphrodite laughed; a strange and twisted laughter that got into Milo´s dreams.

-You are sick, and getting sicker each day.

-Am I? Well. If you think it's one of us three- Mask answered to the spaniard, coarsely- Better don't say it outloud.

His dreams were so real that didn't deserve to be called nightmares. They were a recapitulation of flashes that didn't allow him to neither sleep or be awake. He could see himself stuck in a tree like a rubber target, with bullets flying by. He was impotent like a baby. He was a baby hung from a tree like a piñata for twisted monsters to beat. He was tied by hands and feet in the middle of a room full of enemies. He saw Aphrodite´s contracted face, biting leather to keep the sounds in while they extracted the bullet and treated with wiskey and vinegar the gunshot in his leg, with the delicacy and knowledge that could be expected from either one of them. With his face deformed by pain he didn't look too perfect anymore. He just looked strong, and brutally attractive. He didn't look to perfect in the tree either, when he was shot, his teeth snapping closed to keep the pain in, his lips pale with fear, his hand freezing cold. He was human then. Human like Milo himself.

The exhausted soldier dreamed of the hints of tension behind that calm facade. He dreamed on ripping the pale skin away to uncover the tense muscles, the racing heart he hadn't seen in almost two weeks but had been there all the time, and of kissing them both, the naked flesh, the broken bone. He dreamed on himself rubbed up in white plastic forever, restrained and mute, with a smile pinted on the tight mterial that was covering his mouth. He dreamed on Shura, Shura with brown hair and a red bandana getting killed when he fell, and of himself, Milo, doing nothing; not jumping to ground, not even moving to get angle. That´s all it would have taken. A little stretch, and he could have helped Shura and saved his leg, but he didn´t. He didn´t help him, and it worked. It worked. He saw himself saving others, never recognized, but saving others, saving humans from other humans that were tied and exposed in a room full of enemies, that had never had a chance. The power of revenge was all his now. He felt it, running through his veins, the piñata baby he was had grown into a dragon, a miserable murderous dragon. He was high in power and remorse, yelling from the top of the hill all wrapped in white rubber. He was the fucking devil! He was fucking God! With remorse not nearly as mighty as his glory among a choir of flying Albiores! And he dreamed about greek islands and sick dogs pouring out of his enemies corpses. He vaguely wondered for each one. Would they be the ones watering the plants in the base? Would they watch fake wrestling on TV? Would they paroose over goship magazines when they thought nobody was looking? Would they be human? More human than he? He saw all of this, covered in adrenaline, which he feared the most.

He moved and groaned in his dream. That wining sound was the external avatar of the wild scream he was crying from the top of the hill. His three partners turned their attention to him again.

-Did you tell him he is practicing with humans again?

-No, not yet.

-I hate to tell you this Blondy, but...you are being soft with him lately.

-There is no point in breaki-

-Dont give me bullshit! You are the expert and I´m not fuking arguing! But I´m just saying...You are getting atached, and, if there has ever been a shot in your life you couldn't miss without fucking us all, is this one. So don´t fuck it up!

-No pressure to you either

-Finish your fucking glass and shut up, so I can drunk rape you properly- Aphrodite snorted, and did what was told before leaving the bottle by Shura for the rest of the night.


	4. Heart Shot

p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The greek closed his eyes when the blue bullet pierced through all his subterfuges and went straight to the heart. The purulent repression pouring out of the wound in front of the expert eyes of the northern surgeon, that tried, without success, to keep his emotional distance from the scene./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-It is normal- Aphro offered as a painkiller. His voice had all the peace he didn't feel himself as he watched Milo turn and curl around the invisible wound in his chest- The high is the hardest part to manage, for all of us. We all feel it. Don't be too hard on yourself about it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-You don´t understand Aphrodite. I ..fucking liked it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I know. It is not your fault. It happens to us all./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The Greek moved on the spot again. He saw the spark of pain behind Aphrodite serene eyes; he was learning to see through that beautiful mask, bit by bit. That pitch of weakness in his partner allowed Milo to finally be weak himself. He rolled back close to the northern, and closed his eyes hard, trying to dissipate a nightmare./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-It is sick./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I know./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"That was all he could offer, and it meant a lot./p  
hr style="color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;" noshade="noshade" size="1" /  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Aphrodite sighted, hand on his forehead. Not even the breathtaking landscape at their feet could compensate for this. More than a week! His far-famed patience was enduring a trial by fire./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Relax your muscles; you don't need to use strength to hold the rifle up. If you try, it will just shake./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The shaking rifle just shook more, as a response. Aphrodite barely managed to keep himself from growling in frustration. It was like talking to a very attentive wall. And the worst part was that he couldn't even be mad at the wall for not obeying! It was not the wall´s fault being a wall, just as it wasn´t Milo´s fault being...well, himself. He was born a firecracker. His body just had no concept of what that "relax and do nothing" thing was, and the more he tried to accomplish that mysterious state called passivity the tenser he got./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-...Ok...Fuck this. I´m done. Let´s try another way./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-What now? I´m trying to do what you say!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Stop trying. Just stay there./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo felt his mentor move closer and kneel somewhere behind him. Then, some weight landed on his hip, followed by the pressure of soft white hands checking his muscles over the t-shirt. He found the idea funny, until his blood started boiling and he had to cut his breath to keep himself silent. Kind fingers pinned and rubbed his shoulders, firm, but gentle, and that mixture of strength and softness was driving him crazy. The first hard push close to his neck made him moan behind closed lips. The tension released run as pleasant electricity through his body, from Aphrodite´s hands to the tips of Milo´s toes, where it left his body with a lovely tickling. From funny, things had turned into something really confusing. He was about to complain, but his words turned into a deep sigh instead, so he kept them in and waited, wishing both for it to end quickly and for it to last forever./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Try to aim now, just don´t shoot, I´ll take care of the muscles that get tense as you move./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Aphrodite's voice sounded softer than usual, warmer, abstractly inviting. Milo knew it was just his imagination. But, what if it wasn´t?Just thinking about that possibility turned up the heat in his body to about a thousand degrees, blushing his chicks and tensing the muscles that Aphrodite´s hands then proceed to loosen, in an accidental roller coaster of sensations for the greek./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"His body understood that language way better than words, though. It responded, loosening and relaxing under the sniper´s commands, like a dog responding to the voice of his master. The dog had the sweetest master on Earth, or so was what the intrusive thoughts in his head read. It worked though, even if it got him all flushed and sweaty. That was the point, right? For it to work. What was so wrong about his physical reaction, anyway? He needed some peace, some pleasure in the middle of hell, even if he had entered it willingly. Milo´s eyelids dropped, his mind clinging on to the feeling of relief over the confusion./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"There was just a little detail he just couldn't ignore. The sooth, the heat that those hands brought to him was burning in his chest, not in his shored back. Each time a bit of tension abandoned his back, tortured by contractions untold until not long ago, the physical relief was overshadowed by his heart going wild. It was Aphrodite´s fault, of course, he decided. There was no practical need of it, harsher treatment of his muscles would have achieved the same results faster, in exchange for a little bit of pain, but the strange man had decided not to go that way. He was too kind, and Milo was just thankful. That was all. Why was he so considerate, anyway?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"In all honesty, the sniper was slightly surprised with his own behaviour as well. For all Milo´s overthinking, he just didn´t think anything of his own physical response. He had been in hell for long enough to just take any pleasant experience he could get, and not caring to ask questions. His fingers sent warm signals to the rest of his body. That was pleasant. There was nothing wrong with that. Soft feelings, and a strange sense of pride, poured into his heart as he felt Milo´s muscles relax under his hands and the weapon finally come to a much needed point of balance. The satisfaction spread like wildfire, melting his own rigidity away in a heart felt smile he wasn't even aware of. a happy, honest smile, the very glittering and honest gesture that Milo and all the soldiers doubted Aphrodite was even capable of, happened there, when nobody could see it. But it felt alright. That was all Aphrodite knew. He closed his eyes, and just enjoyed the soothing warmth and the unusual optimism filling his heart, drop by drop. That is, until Shura´s voice in off came into play./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""You are getting too fond of the kid", the nagging voice would say "That may make you soft with him"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Aphrodite just dismissed it without a second thought. This was just a physical reaction, they all have had those before, and they were fun to play with while they lasted. But as he tried to indulge himself, the little voice kept coming back, until he had no choice but to give it some concessions and engage in introspection. Just for an instant, just to be safe and have firm grounds to dismiss it forever. What he found was himself being happy, so innocently and honestly happy just by looking down at his friend´s relaxed back and knowing himself the cause of that relief, that... that something had to be going terribly wrong with him. Terribly, terribly wrong./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"His own skin burning did not concern him, nor did his whole body going in jeopardy each time his partner moaned. The tenderness, the bits of it that hided under the electricity and the heat, that was a problem. He had always had a soft spot for the passionate greek, since the initial weeks. He hadn't thought twice about it. It didn't interfere with his job. It would eventually go away. So who cared? Him, it seems, cause it had not gone away, it had been getting worse, but so slowly, and among so much external chaos, he hadn´t even noticed it. He had been, he was still, like the proverbial frog swimming in a pot while the water around him was being heated so slowly he hadn´t even notice he was about to boil to death, until now. He wanted Milo to be okay, he noticed with horror. It was not a passive preference, as he had assumed before, it was an active desire. He really wanted Milo to be fine, to keep his honest spirit intact, to be happy even. And that was a bad wish to have, because it was not going to happen. It was his job to personally make him suffer, to throw him to the sharks until he learned to swim, to crumble that innocence he adored down, bit by bit, and whatever he was feeling was bond to intervene./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Fuck.../p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Hm?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The sniper stood up, doing his best to ignore the spectacle that his friend was, blushed crimson, breathing irregularly and staring at him with misty eyes all filled with confusion and curiosity. It had been the nocturnal talks, he decided. They had been necessary to earn Milo´s trust, but now their job was done, and they were fucking over./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Don´t look at me and try to aim….Does it work better?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"It did, and it would work even better, the Greek thought, if he could stop fantasizing about another massage and rid his mind of the vapor and the passion and the fog./p  
hr style="color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;" noshade="noshade" size="1" /  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"That night the moon was full, irradiating light over the trees and cliffs. Aphrodite was looking into his friend´s eyes. He breathed slowly, and enjoyed the moment, making it last a much as he could./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-We are going to practice again when we get there. Shaka has some prisoners he won´t use anymore./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Silence. Milo inhaled deeply. The night had a magical effect on him. It kept him from getting mad. It truly turned into bitter observation. He looked at his partner, pale and beautiful under the sad moon light, like mad of moonlight himself. He smiled, hopelessly, controlled his impulses, and longed for the old days, in which those big blue eyes and that absent smile would repel him. Now he was suffering the opposite effect, far stronger, far more weakening, and far far more strange. his eyes got stuck on Aphrodite´s, and the sniper held his stare, thinking it was some short of moral competition./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Why are you doing this to me, Aphro ?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He whispered, breathless, unsure of what he meant at the time. His partner´s glaze escaped back to the moon, breaking the spell with fear, silence, and a really slow blinking. The small delay in the answer meant that his words had gone through the heart and sed blood to fill a fountain. he knew they had, regardless of the soothing voice that the target always managed to pull off./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Doing what?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Why do you want me to shoot people that is tied up..to haunt people through the jungle? Why do you want me to kill prisoners for Shaka, and get used to it? I can do what Saga wants without doing any of that!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-No, you can´t./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Saga needs one of us for one shot, one specific precise shot against a bunch of people I hate enough for killing Aioros. I wouldn't hesitate with that even without ...this!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Yes, you would, or at least, you may, if you are not used to it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-You can't know that./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Yes, I fucking can!- He closed his eyes, upset for the lose of control. By him, Milo´s eyes glowed with a wicked light. Something in that voice tasted like victory! The balance of power tilted in favour of the greek, making him feel a little safer- I...Look. Just...The mind doesn't work like that. Yes, it is less likely it will interfere with your hand when it's someone you hate, but it's still someone who is not an immediate threat to you, so it might. I´m not taking any risks. Nobody is, and nobody should. If you can't take this just be fucking straight about it! Nobody would judge you./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Silence, again. Insects interfering with the star light, and a big white moon that just moved too slowly. Aphrodite was blushed with rage despite his peaceful expression, and Milo had to make an effort not to smile both in victory and in pain. He was feeling more confused about his feelings each passing day./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I´m sorry-the Sniper said after a long silence, vaguely referring to everything- I should have told you earlier, you are not a kid...I guess./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo growled a little,his ego again under attack, the balance of power tilting to Aphrodite´s side with just a grain of wit./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I´m sorry about your leg./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-You said that already./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-If it happens in a tree, at the verge of death it doesn't quite count- Both smiled, lips comfortably curled up, body and soul comfortably exhausted from the permanent wrestling with each other. It felt great. It was a different kind of pain and just for that they carved it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Can I be honest with you?- Aphrodite asked, turning his head over the pillow of moss and leaves/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I´m starting to doubt it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"His wittiness got the most beautiful smile as a price. Milo felt like melting, and escaped to the sky, looking for forgotten childhood constellations while Aphrodite talked softly./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"- I'm glad you are here. That you are learning to do this. It´s… I needed someone to talk to. Someone who ...well, who actually "gets it" -A humorless smile spoiled his face. He smirked further, smirked at pale stars shaped like fish walking over them, and at the blood-sucking insects that shone like stardust under the moonlight- Not the most altruistic thing to say, huh? I guess misery loves company... You can yell at me now, if you want./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Well...-silence, long and thick- What do you want me to say? Youem are/em an asshole-Milo had to say it, it was a matter of mental health after hearing that confession, but he was not mad, he just couldn't- ..but...I get it. This shucks. Your job shucks. So..I'm..kind of glad you are around too. It's...It has to be done, and it has to be done by someone. it´s not like when I was not involved it was not happening so...Well...I guess it's okay./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The greek continued with that wide smile of his, deliciously oblivious to the effects that those words had had on the other man. He had no clue of how long his friend had needed to hear that, exactly that, exactly those words, from someone else. The sound of a lock opening and a key falling to the ground could almost be heard in the silence of the night. Milo didn´t hear the click immediately, but as he looked in his partner´s eyes he saw something new, something warm and shy he had never seen, and at the same time, something he had always known was there. A kind, caressing breeze swirled him around, and he just gave in to it. To the pleasure and the pain and the madness he was in./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-This doesn't fit your character, Aphro. It´s not like you- he whispered, sharing his discovery as a secret- This doesn't fit you at all. Why do you do it?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The northern answered in the same confidential voice, unaware of his own words./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Somebody has to. You said it yourself./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Why you? Why not someone else? You had to get into it, but you could have left it since then, and you have not. Why?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Because...I´m good at it. If I´m the one shooting, I know it is going to be as fast and painless as it can be, ..., I also wouldn't trust anyone else./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-With your life?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-With theirs./p  
hr style="color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;" noshade="noshade" size="1" /  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Okay! Waking up, ladies! There is enough light to see a bear at a foot distance, so there is enough light to walk!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo groaned and curled up when the stupid pilot kicked his ribs. That was Deathmask´s substitute for "good morning" that week, it seemed! It worked to wake him up, for sure. He jumped up right away, fully awake, that´s true. He was also fueled by the unique energy that comes from homicidal rage, and the sole purpose of turning the decorated body of his brother in arms into meatballs for ants. When he saw the clarity in the sky, he had no choice but to curse and bend his wish of retribution to his sense of duty. It was, indeed time to start moving, and fast./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Shura was crawling off his niche right by him, rubbing his arm over the place where Deadmask´s "good morning" had impacted/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-What the hell is wrong with him? He is going professional on the whole being an asshole thing-Milo complained to Shura, rubbing his ribs and still wanting to beat up something./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-He is worried about us three, don't be too harsh on him- Shura suggested, taking the purple circle that was already growing on his arm with disgusting resignation./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-He is insane -Milo growled/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Yes. That too. But now he is also worried./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Ahead of them Deadmask had gotten everything ready, and was pulling Aphrodite up by the arm like a dead weight. Milo didn´t like that. he had no clue about why, but he knew he didn´t like it. DeadMask looked at him straight, and smiled wide, daring him to complaint at all. He carried his stuff with one arm, and held the sniper with the other/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-It has been enough time, I can walk- Aphrodite complained, pulling away from the Italian to stand on his own./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-No, you can not./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-You two can't keep this speed wh-Mask dropped the bag that was carrying on his right and clawed the snippers neck, cutting the flow of air./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Finish that sentence, Blondy, or say something about walking on your own again, and you´ll be picking blood for the rest of the day, I fucking swear./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo got tense, Shura ignored it, and Aphrodite just rolled his eyes, annoyed, but far from intimidated. He abandoned his attempt of standing by himself and lined back against Mask, looking more like a resigned older brother in no mood for arguing than like the victim of a threat. Deadmask lets go of his throat and picked the bag up again./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Fine. But you´ll take it easy from now on. Okay? You´ve been carrying too much weight- Aphrodite growled in a whisper- And I mean it in more than one way./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Ok, ok...I´ll slow down- he groaned back, accepting the implicit deal./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Good boy./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Shut Up... Hey! You! The not-so-blond piece of shit!Hurry up, shall you? We've got to cross an open and I'm not crazy about doing it at noon!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo growled something as he accommodated Shura´s arm, Shura´s load, and his own on his shoulders, and rushed to follow the other two through the jungle. He couldn't explain why, but the unexplained partner switch kept him annoyed all through the march./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"It was because Aphrodite was much lighter than Shura, he kept rationalizing. The disgusting mass of muscles that had appointed himself as boss could at least use his body for something and carry the heaviest wounded soldier, as he had done before!/p  
hr style="color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;" noshade="noshade" size="1" /  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Yeah...The whole avoiding the nights with Milo was not quite going as expected, but it was all business related./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Don´t be so hard on yourself, you are not that bad...If it makes you feel better, I was worse, when I started/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Really?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Wow, that made you far too happy. You know?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"- Was that a long ago?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I can't tell you- Aphrodite reminded in a light mood, pushing a cricket off his leg/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Well...Tell me more. I want to know emeverything/em about how much you shucked. And, please, do expand on the humiliating details./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The greek turned on his side to look straight at the other as a rule instead of as an exception, which had been the norm regarding stares so far. That made his not caring about the stars anymore, something official. The big blue lights he loved sparkled, surprised, but didn´t run away to the sky as they normally would. There was a ghost of pain through them, but they stayed, stayed on him. There was even an amused smile curving Aphrodite´s lips. Milo smiled, pleased with that,even if he couldn't explain why. He moved closer to his friend, expecting a rejection that didn´t come./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"- Well...I was worse than you emin some aspects/em. I did have that crazy notion of "self control" you must have never heard of, and I didn´t shake the rifle like while I held it as If I was an epileptic monkey... but...well...I was worse in pother things./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Like?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I..could does not bring myself to pull the trigger, sometimes. Far too often. Fuck, in the beginning, almost never. It would be fine for a while, and out of the blue I just froze. I actually...-Aphrodite scratched the back of his head, clearly uncomfortable- I fucked up big time because of that a couple of times. It could...It did in a way. I..Can't go into details but..-He shocks his head- I thought it would get better with time, but it went worse. As we continued...being in the situation we were I would simply freeze for no reason I could tell. Once it was the fingernails you know? We had gotten ourselves better equipment. I looked through the visor, and suddenly I can see the guy's fingernail. It has smashed with something, so it was black with blood, that is the only reason I could see it, is not like we got visors from wonderland, but...Well. You know. I was their best shot though when I didn't have my head up my ass. So, I kept at it -the man shook his head and smiled, apologetical and shy, making Milo's hear flutter-Mask would have to snap me out of it by radio..Sometimes, by the very end of it...I guess it was the lack of sleep, but he actually had to stay behind with me...Fuck, I think his barking saved us more than I did. You can not rely on your willpower for this shit, you know? You became a death weight when it runs out.../p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-So, you´ve known each other for a long time, right? With Shura, too?- That was the end of the magic, and the calm, and the stupid perfume they were letting themselves be wrapped by. Aphrodite's eyes snapped open, quickly recapping over the conversation. The verdict was clear, either he was stupid, or he had gone insane./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Ok, I think this has been enough for today./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He practically jumped on his feet. He tried to leave the scene of the crime walking naturally, which he totally failed to accomplish. Milo grabbed his wrist and tried to pull him back down, with no better success./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Hey? Where did that came from? Is not such a big deal!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Yes, it is. Let go!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I don't even know your name dammit! Or his! Or anyone else´s! What if I know you knew each other's from before this war?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Nothing, as far as that's all you know. Now, forget it, and let me go./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-You can't be fighting with others and have no trust in them!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I can do pretty amazing things, Milo. Now, let me go before I make you do it by force. I´m not asking you a fourth time./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo let him go with a spiteful glance, that the other ignored completely. The greek was furious at himself; he had been so close to tilting the balance definitively towards his end!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Maybe it´s you the one who betrays us! Maybe is you I should worry about!- he yelled, furiously/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-That is the fucking spirit!- The black shadow yelled back, so much bitterness in his voice it could have melted a fork./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Aphrodite stayed by DeathMask as a second shadow from then on. It didn't surprise anyone; the pilot was growing more violent by days and it made but sense that Aphrodite wanted to stay nearby to keep him under control. DeathMask was the only one who understood that his friend was hiding from something./p  
hr style="color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;" noshade="noshade" size="1" /  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The first thing he had done when he arrived on camp was going to get whiskey, which meant he had clashed with Mu. He had also clashed with Milo again on his way back from arguing with Mu, because why not? And after that with Aiolia, since he was at it already./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-He is behaving strange lately, isn't he?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Two of us are hurt, and Aiolos is down, he is worried. Plus, this whole spy thing is getting under everyone's skin, don't you think?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Aphrodite understood what Shaka was actually suggesting. In the same way, Shaka understood the accusation hidden in the other´s answer. The spy and the sniper got along really well. Their jobs had a lot in common, and the job shapes the mind./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Do you think he may have one of his attacks soon?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Mask? No, I don't think so. This is just him being his usual asshole self...for the most part- Shaka noded, and reflected for some minutes. Quiet minutes in which they both could hear the chaos in the background, where Milo tried to keep Aiolia from jumping over DeathMask, who laughed like crazy./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Then, if we don´t need to keep you both together, I think we should reshuffle groups./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I don´t. What is the point?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-It gives us more chances to spot the spy. It´s harder to stay covered when the observers change often. Trust me, it is my job- Aphrodite frowned/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Milo and I must stay together, and all injured must be in the same group to not weaken the others, we would only be relocating one person./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Shaka smiled, and turned to grab his jacket, looking for something in the pockets. Shaka could easily see the actual accusation under Aphrodite's neutral tone. It made him smile. He responded in the same way./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Who is seeing a ghost now?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Aphrodite sighted, graciously conceding defeat in their very polite rhetoric duel, and caught the small object Shaka had taken out of the jacket. When he glanced at it, his eyes sparkled, and his stomach roared with excitement/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"- I am in charge of provisions, after all. I hope you have no complaints about that part of my job- The sniper smirked, getting one pastry in his mouth and temporally forgetting everything around./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Man, you fucking are the closest thing to a God that ever visits this mosquito hole./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I accept your attempt at a compliment./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Hours later and by a show of hands, the grouping was decided. Mu, Milo, Shaka, and Shura were in favor of the regrouping, Deathmask and Aiolia were against it, Aphrodite and Aldebaran didn´t vote. The decision was made./p 


	5. Boiled alive

p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The man run across the forest, away from those two beasts that had let him go, with no clue about the other two monsters that observed him from the edge of a distant cliff. They had selected the spot for Milo to have a wide angle. That meant that he could afford to waste a lot of time before the prisoner went out of range./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He was on one knee, with Aphrodite standing behind him ready to prevent any actual scape in case Milo couldn't get the target in time. They had been practicing for most of the afternoon, and such thing still hadn't happened once. His precision was getting gradually worse as the day progressed though. He started by missing some shots here and there, and now he was missing a lot of them. Three shots before this man fell, most of them didn't even hit close, and the one who did probably didn´t kill him at first./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Damn it!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He rubbed his eyes, furious at himself. Aphrodite whispered something kind about him being too harsh on himself, but the greek wanted no comfort. He knew he was just being sloppy, and an idiot, and had no excuse for it! He couldn't even see their faces. He couldn't even hear them scream when he missed the head. This had all requisites to be easy! What the hell was wrong with him? Why was it that hard? Why on Earth was he so tired?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He cursed again, rubbing his whole face now, trying to collect his thoughts, to turn them into a bloody needle and stuck them at a point, but he just couldn´t. He woudn´t be as mad if he thought the problem was the task, but he had done it perfectly at the begining. But, after a first hour of impeccable sharp shooting he was really proud of, his thoughts had revealed against him in a maniac explosion, and now they were scattered all over the place. What harm would it make to let those men escape, away? They hadn't seen their faces closely, not all of them. They were probably just wishing for a peaceful time at home. They probably had a family to run to. He had also seen how Shaka and Mask scared the living crap out of them, to use a euphemism. He couldn't see any of them coming back for more after that./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Minutes that felt like seconds passed by as he got lost in his own mind. Two white fingers tapped on his shoulder, and signaled at a distant spot in the forest./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-They will release the next soon. Be ready./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He collected his thoughts again through pure power of will. Nobody could make it out alive, he reminded himself while he grilled his teeth. It was for the group´s safety. He reminded himself why he was doing this, reminded Aiolos, reminded why the cause was important. It was worth it, damn it! If this was worth his own life, it was worth theirs! Right? He had more than enough courage to do what was expected of him! He rose in determination, roaring like a lion! He pointed! He shot! He completely failed. Somewhere down the cliff a frog suffered an unexpected death, while the little human figure kept running across the patch of map they had control over, gradually approaching the escape point./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo didn't even have time to mourn for either his pride or the frog. He had to block the assault of a flood of thoughts coming his way before they throw him to his knees. In the mists of that fight, he pointed again, more determined than ever. He shoots again, stairmg furiously at his target, and failed. He failed the third attempt, also, and the fourth. His pride was bleeding, and the voices in his head were about to drive him crazy. The prisoner was close to the scaping point. Milo could imagine that poor´s heart racing, his soul filled with hope and warm dreams of home. A snap of tongue, and then a shot behind him shattered the prisioner´s warm dreams and brought the aprentice some peace. Peace at last! He let the rifle slip to the ground, thankful to the God of Death behind him. The prisoner fell instantly, bringing him a guilty sense of relief./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Damn! I don't know what is happening to me./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-You are tired, that's all./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo breathed deep, through pressed teeth, welcoming the buzzing silence in his head. Upset. Humiliated, but immensely relieved by all of it because now thinking was harder. God, yes, so relieved by the lying corpse on the remote patch of grass he didn't even want to admit it. His head was spinning. His willpower was exhausted. And his thoughts had turned into the monstrous beast without shape that inhabited the white silence in his head, scratching its walls to escape and fill it all with howling moans. He felt like the fauna drawn on Deathmask´s skin was now real and calling his mind home. Why? He had fought relentlessly through more extended battles. Even though days, that one time! He had made it, and his inner fire hadn't lost a bit of its heat! Now he was out of breath, in less than three hours. He looked at the floor, trying to get some serenity. At least, it was finally over; he reminded himself. That calmed his heart down and got the beasts to give him a truce. He had some minutes to recover before the next round. Lord, he needed that! He wouldn't fuck up with the next one. He wouldn't get so nervous. Everything would be fine. They would be done soon, for the prisoners and him./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"A gentle tap on his shoulder asked for his attention. He gazed towards the patch of jungle Aphrodite was pointing at. The prisoner, a blur of dark and red on a field of green, was crawling towards the scape point, still alive. He froze in horror, and looked up, hoping Aphrodite had missed the shot too, hoping to see him get ready to try again and finish the job. But the scandinavian just looked at the crawling man, calmly./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I went for the hip. He won't run anymore. Finishing him is your job./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"A pulse of pain came from his stomach. His relief was popped into a showed of drops flavoured like betrayal, and bitter old instincts of crushing and punching and breaking in half that pretty face and that fake eternal smile in front of him. The hate come back, but as soon as it rose, it faded. He understood Aphrodite now, at least a little bit better than he used to. He didn´t even had his hate to cling on for consolation. He could blame the northern any longer. He had nothing left. There was no compassion to punch into his partner, it had been always there, it was just tied up tightly, as his own should be. This had to be done./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo took some air and looked at the landscape. First, his eyes refused to see the soldier. Then, his hands would refuse to hold the weapon straight. Last, his brain wouldn't figure out how that point could be reached. It didn't matter; he had to try, aim straight and.../p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-You know what? This is stupid; If the shot has a difficult angle and I can't get it, then I can´t get it! I'm not gonna magically improve in a minute!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-The shot is easy enough. You got harder ones under worse conditions when we were fighting. Your hand is not the problem, your mind is./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Well! Obviously, it is not. I had no problem to…!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-You are tired- the sniper interrupted, his sharp voice wrapped in silk, a little bob down from his head that the greek had learned to identify, by observing the sniper while he had to rest from walking on his injured leg, as concealed pain -That is why you keep missing him./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I´ve fought for far fucking longer./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I know- The northern answered softly- It's not your body the one that's tired./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I´ve struggled for far fucking longer, and my fucking mind was fucking fine!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-You weren´t repressing anything then, and you are now. You are forcing yourself to do something you don´t think is right. That it's tiring, and eventually stops working./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Thank you, Sherlock./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-...Oh for fucking God's shake.../p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-WHAT?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo groaned and sweared something about his partner´s parentage. He was dizzy and the man down there was crawling and, goddamnit he was crawling! On the ground! With the hip pierced probably, or God knows what the other guy had...and they were there, talking about it in the midtime! He was crawling and probably crying and probably praying while they were calmly…/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Do you need help?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-FUCK, YES! KILL HIM!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Not that type of help. Sorry./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo sighted. He hated Aphrodite for an instant but he coudn´t keep it up for long, his rationality wouldn't let him. It kept repeating him it was necessary. Him and his conscience, being torn apart by delicate white fingers was necessary. Worse than that. He was learning to read the emotions behind the sniper´s courtesy, and he saw the white fingers tearing him apart bleed through the process as much as he did. If they didn´t give up, nor would he./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-You...You want me to know what to do when I get tired, right? Just in case it fucking happens in a fight...That was the goal of caming here, right? You are one twisted motherfucker! You know that? You are sick./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"There was hate in those words, but not directed towards any specific human, but against life itself. Aphrodite nodded an imperceptible smile on his lips and an even more subtle shadow of pain in his eyes. He kneeled by his friend, who was the hostage of his raging mind again. Milo, in the midtime, just wondered. Was this even justified?Was the war even making any...and goddamnit that man was fucking crawling! He wanted to go somewhere! He had someone waiting for him, that was sure, why else would…/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-You have a chattering mind right now, I bet. Here, change knee, just to get a little movement; and now close your eyes./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Is that gonna be a good idea while fighting?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Missing every fucking shot for thirty minutes is worse than closing your eyes for two, so, yes. Relax, it will take less time than you think. There...now, focus on a sound, or a texture, focus until you can´t think about anything else…Shaka can help you with this better than I when we get back to camp./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo growled and obeyed. He waited a couple of seconds, then shoot, and failed, and looked at Aphrodite, whom shaked his head to indicate that he wasn't killing the guy. Milo tried again. Closed his eyes, did all he was told and some things he wasn't. The body under the trees was almost out of range. This time he went for the chest, an easier target than the head. He had to do it three times at least, because he knew just one bullet in the body might not kill the man. Each time he pulled the triger his teeth grilled, but he managed to do it again, until the prisoner stopped moving. It was over. Over only for the day, but over. Finally over./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The victory tasted nothing like victory should. He allowed the rifle to slide down from his fingers and looked to the ground again. He had killed them all and instead of feeling pride his eyes were getting wet of rage and of shame. He turned his face, thankful to know the other soldier was a step behind and couldn't see him. A tear slipped through his cheek, leaving behind a burning trail of humiliation. He pressed his teeth and tried to force his eyes dry. He pressed to cut the likage, and it seemed to work, so he pressed harder and harder, aiming for perfect dryness and dignity, until something inside of him exploded, and all his body crumbled down./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He was shaking again, from shoulders to feet. His muscles refused to respond. With a hand covering his face he couldn't stop himself from crying. He could barelly manage to do it quietly and not whine while his body shaked. He felt a pat on his shoulder, but couldn't control his voice enough to tell the sniper to get the fuck lost, nor to tell him thank you./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Aphrodite observed from the corner of his eye. He waited for the crisis to pass; it was probably just an outburst, he thought, it woudn´t last long. But as time went on and Milo couldn't still stop himself something melted inside of Aphrodite's heart, to the point of catching fire. Cold, fluid fire was dripping down his soul. The sniper decided it was appreciation and refused to give credit to anything else. He locked away the little Shura in his head that was already running in circles and screaming something about "I told you so." The anoying voice of his dear friend was sent straight to hell with all the tendency to overthink it had brought with it. He pulled Milo up from the shoulder he had patted him on. Once the Greek was on his feet, Aphrodite hughed him tight to keep him from shivering. /p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Good job, idiot. You did it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"When he felt that man so close to him though, his self-control dissapeared in thin air. His whole body twisted to protect every inch of his friend´s back he could physically reach, his face went down to rest by milo´s head, looking for contact. There were no perfectly reasonable explanations to what he was doing. There was only tenderness. The frog hand´t scraped the pot, he thought, and the water was getting warmer...but...justo one more minute there! Just that. It was not going to get that personal...it was just a hugh./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The greek fell against his chest and corresponded, aggressively, with all the hate and the bitterness he was pouring eyes down, and with all the shame of not being able to stop himself. He hid his face against Aphrodite´s shoulder and squeezed his ribs far past the point he knew it hurt. Aphrodite took the fury and the deprivation of air without complaining. His hand caressed Milo´s head as if it rocked a child, with no skill whatsoever. Milo kept a whine in almost by miracle. The weight of the northern forehead was against his head, and his arms kept him safely on his feet, even if his knees where shaking. The only thing that made the shame barearble was that Aphrodite didn´t care if he was crying or not, or so he thought. That idiot just could not care about anything at all./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He finally stopped fighting the tears and let go, pouring the flood of emotions out until he was dry and exhausted, but able to stand by himself./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I´ll tell Shaka to lock the rest of the targets again. We are done for today. I´ll take care of them in the cabins./p  
hr style="color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;" noshade="noshade" size="1" /  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"There was some quick talk by radio, and then nothing but silence as they walked back. Or, at least, that was Aphrodite´s plan./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I thought it was a lie. You being in charge of prisoners./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-That part wasn´t. I´m still the one who does most of the interrogations, and of the executions. The others can't stomach it, not even Saga- He explained calmly- Assholes.../p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Is that what you are going to do now?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Don´t worry about that. Just go to bed. We will continue tomorrow./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I want to go with you./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Sorry. What?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I want to go with you. Is not such a long sentence. I want to see it myself. I´m going./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo´s eyes were reddened still, but they had their unique strength burning back in them, burning strong enough to dry the whole rainforest. The power of initiative escaped from Aphrodite´s hands and ran to join the strongest spirit around. Milo was in control now, and the sniper didn't like it. But couldn't find moral ground to stand on and do anything about it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"- You have been doing this shit for us since the beginning, right? Well, I've been happily doing nothing of it for all those years instead, too good for this, even in the village, but getting benefits from it. And...this crap is hard Aphrodite. And should not be on one person. I'm not a parasite anymore. I´m not a hypocrite or a bloody coward. I am not like all those fucking assholes you were thinking about, is. Not anymore. If I´m as responsible for this as you are, I want to see it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Milo…/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Milo what? Did you have someone by you the first time you cracked like I just did? Was anyone hugging you? No, right? Well, I did have it, and I didn't deserve it any more than you! Are you going to tell me it doesn't happen to you anymore? Ever?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-That doesn't matter anymore/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-It does! It does to me!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Well, that is your problem. We can't j.../p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"- And it matters to you! Don't fucking try to lie to me! I can fucking tell when you do./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He couldn't lie. He couldn't even move. Whatever was going on now was beyond his power, and that was the feeling he dreaded the most. It was the second time in less than a year that he felt like honestly, and wholeheartedly, bowing towards his friend. Worse, he felt like running to him and hiding under his jacket until the end of the days. That impulse was terrifying. More terrifying than anything he had gone through in a long time. He didn't do either thing, of course. He just nodded, unable to refute any of the soldier´s arguments, and walked back to the camp, with a pleasant sense of weakness that scared him stiff. Little Shura run wild across his mind now, bitter and victorious, and Aphrodite knew it was too late to retreat. His heart raced just by thinking of the posibility of huging his friend again, of being the one being conf0orted this time. He observed his reactions from outside his body, his sudden shyness, his pounding heart, with fatalistic resignation. Too late to jump to safety now. He had already boiled to death./p  
hr style="color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;" noshade="noshade" size="1" /  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Covering the prisioner´s eyes was not as sadistic as it sounded if we consider that the whole wall was already painted in brain white and blood red./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Let me do it/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The words came in greek. Milo´s face was opaque, but his eyes were feverishly determined. Aphrodite had asked him to leave several times and tried to discourage him in every way, but it had been useless. He was as stubborn as he was brave. No matter what he had to do, press or bite to kept himself together, he had stayed./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Are you sure…?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-You said I need to get desensitized, right? Well then. Let me do it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I think it has been enough for a day, and I don´t say that easily.../p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I should know what I can take better than you, so don´t try to lecture me about it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-What are you trying to prove, Milo?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I can keep arguing all day./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo stepped forward. Aphrodite looked down to avoid his glance, and gave in. There was nothing else he could do. Milo took the weapon from his hand, determined. He pictured himself lifting it. He pictured himself..he couldn't, he couldn't picture himself shooting. The prisoner, a thin young man with short hair was facing his direction less than a meter away. He had just heard the man tell Aphro the story of his life an hour earlier. They knew all the favorite bands of his brothers and siblings, they knew the names of his cats, and of how annoying it was that nobody in the enemy base ever did the dishes on time. During that seemingly innocent conversation some more important names had slipped out, some targets, and sometimes and places where supplies were delivered to the enemy. Who didn´t hated it when someone else didn´t do the dishes on fucking time, by the way?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Its fine, Milo. I'll do it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-No. Step back./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He wasn't a coward, and he wasn't a hypocrite. He was going to prove it. This man was just like the people he had killed as a soldier for the last months, and as a rebel for the years before. He had killed them willingly and proudly for the cause back then. If he goddamned couldn't bring himself to do it now, he better shot his own damned head, because that meant none of his previous kills had ever been right and he had been a bloody monster for years. Even a bragging one. Yes, he was decided, but still, knew he wouldn't be able to pull the trigger by himself. His hand just refused to./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Aphro…You said that, sometimes, you froze, and couldn't get yourself to shoot, right? That DeathMask had to snap you out of it by radio. He reminded you what to do, and you just zoned out and did it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-..Yes. -The cracked sound of Mask´s voice on the radio echoed in his head, bringing with it the scent of the desert and far mor empathy for Milo than he could handle./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Can you do it for me? I...may need it down the road today. Soon./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Aphrodite lowered his head, which Milo misunderstood as pain again. It was the usual meaning of the gesture, but not this time. This time there were lowering arms and lost eyes. the pain was not alone, it was full of fucking respect. Respect and mercy. Respect as he didn´t even felt for himself and, up to an extent, a rendition. The second rendition Aphrodite made to this young man, deep and absolute enought to require him several seconds to process and understand. With the respect and the rendition the terror came back. It was brutal and wild, but ti wasn´t paralizing, which meant, there was something else inside, together with the respect and the submisiveness and the terror, something mighty enought to control the fear and turn it into an ally. Trust. His eyes got a puzzled sparkle at the discovery. It was too fast, but if that feeling was there, there was no turning back. He should be pleased he had managed to break the kid down finally. He was not. He hated his success with every inch of his soul./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"By the time Aphrodite dared to look at Milo again, his entire set of behaviors had changed. The northern retired his hand from the gun he had tried to take away and put it in Milo´s shoulder. The touch was no longer paternal; now it was a hard grip that hoped to convey strength./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Very well. If you really want to do this, let's go for it- Could he help Milo force himself through this? Yes, but he didn't want to! God, he so didn't want to...From the deepest parts of his guts, he just rejected everything he had done with him so far. He just wanted to take the pain he was causing the greek away; he would gladly suffer it himself instead... But that was not how things worked./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Yes. Sure. I'm right behind you./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Thanks/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Please. Don´t- Nop a pre made answer. A real one. Please, please, please, please, do not say that I can´t hear it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The prisioner was starting to figure out what was going on. He began to try to negotiate frantically, begging them to reconsider. He was not a threat, he explained. He had been recruited by force in the first place! The white hand pressed Milo´s shoulder again, to give him courage. It ripped him appart, but the soldier managed to pull the trigger one more time. He managed to do it for the next victim, too who shook and had a young kid waiting home. And for the one who ilustrated children´s books. And for the one after that. He managed to do all Aphrodite´s pending work of the day. He managed to go to bed, and drop there like a stone, and wake up early the next day, and do the expected practice from the cliff, and then came back down to the cabins and did Aphrodite´s interrogations, and then the unfinished work for that day. He needed a lot of help, but he managed to wake up the next morning, and do it all again, and again, and again, until no one of the unfortunate souls were left, and then, go to bed, and drop like a stone there, knowing that the work was done. All through those days, he had felt like it wasn´t part of reality. His ming was shoked and silent. But when the work was over his conscience went back to live. It brought a long list of his sins with it, for them both to examine it together in minute detail./p  
hr style="color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;" noshade="noshade" size="1" /  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Aphrodite had a light sleep, especially before moving camps. Steps next to his door were more than enough to wake him up. He reached for the gun by his bed and carefully walked away from the range that the door would leave as it opened. Milo identified himself before pushing the door. Aphrodite relaxed, with some idea of what was going to happen next./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"When Milo came in he was wax pale, almost green, slow like a zombie, with purple circles around his eyes and grey lines of shadow going through his face. he looked five years older than when he of that was new, not even the opaque souless gaze. Milo´s transformation had been ongoing for the last days, they all had noticed but himself./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The body stood there in silence, looking at Aphrodite's bed, not even at the owner, without saying a word. Aphrodite coudn´t look at him for long. He had seen friends with emthat/em glanze before, he had seen it in himself and laughted bitterly, but seeing it in Milo was even worse. The greek moved his empty eyes towards him and guilt forced Aphrodite to fight for his breath./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Aphro../p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-..Yes?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I…-silence-I´ve been thinking that...well, I´ve been thinking...and...Well. After all, I could die tomorrow, and you too, and I trust you. I don't know why, but...I... really trust you. I is that...Okay?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The voice came as a whisper, as a dying cry for help. Milo saw understanding in his partner's eyes, maybe too much of it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Aphrodite´s guts twisted and his heart contracted, as he moved aside in the bed, understanding what his friend was looking for. Milo sat by him, and looked at the sniper's body from top to bottom as if it was a strange amchine he needed to use./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Sure. Came here./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo took that assigned permission, and jumped on the northern like a beast, tackling him in what could either be a kiss, or attempted murder. He had no clue of what to do. He had no clue how to do it. And he was shy and confused and shaking and breaking inside, scattering pieces of the soul all over the bed. He just needed the pain to stop and had heard that it could be done that way. He was looking for the promised relief with frenetic despair. Magic didn´t just happen. As he moved, he felt increasingly lost, increasingly impatient. In an outburst of frustration, he bit Aphro´s lips with all his strenght and drew blood out of them both, putting them through. The metallic taste snapped him out of his rage for a second. Aphrodite hadn´t even moved yet. He knew he had to let the kid take some energy out, even if it was on him. When the first pause came, he grabbed Milo´s wrists and rolled to the side to end up on top, putting his weitght on them and holding him against the bed./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo observed Aphrodite with a spark of fury. He tried to free his hands, but could´t. The northern was too strong and had his weight to help him. Milo was trapped, and that actually made him feel...better. Far better. His eyes moved up in wonder, sparkling by the discovery with the light of dyiong hope. He didn´t know what to do. He didn´t know how to do it. And now it didn´t matter because he was defenceless and coudn´t do anything. It made him feel...Free. He tried the strength of his friend´s arms again, praying for the grip to be stronger than what he could break from that position even if he tryed with all his might. It was. He breathed in relief, free from responsibility, free from choice, and calmed down immediately. The maddening tension left his body in a long while he didn't care to repress, because it was saving him from madness. His soul clinged on the safety those hands gave him, a promise someone else was in charge now, someone he trusted. He didn't know he needed to behold, but it worked./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I get it now-he wispered to the Aphrodite of weeks ago that was interacting with past him in a memory, far, far away./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The sniper looked calm and in control, despite his bleeding lips. he knew what he was doing, Milo though. He must have done this for others before, and he must have needed it himself quite a lot for everything to feel so natural. That thought used to hurt Milo, but not anymore. Now, it just made sense. All that mattered was that, as he struggled weakly against his partner, the weight on his chest went away and his mind got filled with soothing fog. Just for that he would be grateful for a lifetime. He tried to focuss his vitreous eyes and soon gave up, looking at the heavens beyond instead. He begged to the gods above, to the god above him, with the curly hair and the bleeding lips that run like a red river, to relieve him from all pain./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo sighted alellujah and prayed. His voice was a hoarse whisper trembling in his mouth./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Make it go away Aphro. Make me stop thinking about them...Please…/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Aphrodite bit his tongue, trying to keep the overload of memories in check. He caressed Milo´s cheeck and gave him a reassuring smile while his own heart broke to pieces. It didn´t matter; he just hoped Milo woudn´t hear the sound from outside. He had done that to the greek. He knew it, it killed him, and it wasn´t even over yet./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He lowered his head and kissed his partner softly. Tickling him a little with his lips, just to move his attention away from anything else that was tormenting him. He kissed his face, and turned him around under himself to caress his back, or so he made it look. There was just one goal in that move. If he broke to cry, which felt quite possible, Milo wouldn't see it. He lined down again, and whispered in his friend's ear with real love and fake serenity. It was late for Milo to escape from that hell. It was also too late for him to escape from the kid./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I will try./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"His voice was shaking, but his hands were warm and still. Milo smiled to the air, a cracked survivor smile, and sighted any control over the situation away, begging for it to never came back. He trusted the other man. He trusted he could do magic now. He trusted he had his back. Just that trust in itself made he feel better./p  
hr style="color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;" noshade="noshade" size="1" /  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-So... you are throwing me to the lions, after all./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-It´s not like that, and you know it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Deadmask wrapped his arms around his friend, and rested his chin on the northern´s shoulder./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I know. It's the most reasonable thing to do, technically. I understand it- he sighted- I don't trust Mu, or Aiolos´s brother, or the bloody coward giant, and nor do you./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-We used to./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Yes, we used to-Aphrodite hugged back his friend´s arms, holding them and pressing his back against his chest./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Be careful, okay?- Deathmask smirked, and hided his face against his friend's dirty hair, and kissed his neck with afection./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Go to bloody hell.../p 


	6. True Colors

p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The man run across the forest, away from those two beasts that had let him go, with no clue about the other two monsters that observed him from the edge of a distant cliff. They had selected the spot for Milo to have a wide angle. That meant that he could afford to waste a lot of time before the prisoner went out of range./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He was on one knee, with Aphrodite standing behind him ready to prevent any actual scape in case Milo couldn't get the target in time. They had been practicing for most of the afternoon, and such thing still hadn't happened once. His precision was getting gradually worse as the day progressed though. He started by missing some shots here and there, and now he was missing a lot of them. Three shots before this man fell, most of them didn't even hit close, and the one who did probably didn´t kill him at first./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Damn it!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He rubbed his eyes, furious at himself. Aphrodite whispered something kind about him being too harsh on himself, but the greek wanted no comfort. He knew he was just being sloppy, and an idiot, and had no excuse for it! He couldn't even see their faces. He couldn't even hear them scream when he missed the head. This had all requisites to be easy! What the hell was wrong with him? Why was it that hard? Why on Earth was he so tired?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He cursed again, rubbing his whole face now, trying to collect his thoughts, to turn them into a bloody needle and stuck them at a point, but he just couldn´t. He woudn´t be as mad if he thought the problem was the task, but he had done it perfectly at the begining. But, after a first hour of impeccable sharp shooting he was really proud of, his thoughts had revealed against him in a maniac explosion, and now they were scattered all over the place. What harm would it make to let those men escape, away? They hadn't seen their faces closely, not all of them. They were probably just wishing for a peaceful time at home. They probably had a family to run to. He had also seen how Shaka and Mask scared the living crap out of them, to use a euphemism. He couldn't see any of them coming back for more after that./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Minutes that felt like seconds passed by as he got lost in his own mind. Two white fingers tapped on his shoulder, and signaled at a distant spot in the forest./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-They will release the next soon. Be ready./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He collected his thoughts again through pure power of will. Nobody could make it out alive, he reminded himself while he grilled his teeth. It was for the group´s safety. He reminded himself why he was doing this, reminded Aiolos, reminded why the cause was important. It was worth it, damn it! If this was worth his own life, it was worth theirs! Right? He had more than enough courage to do what was expected of him! He rose in determination, roaring like a lion! He pointed! He shot! He completely failed. Somewhere down the cliff a frog suffered an unexpected death, while the little human figure kept running across the patch of map they had control over, gradually approaching the escape point./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo didn't even have time to mourn for either his pride or the frog. He had to block the assault of a flood of thoughts coming his way before they throw him to his knees. In the mists of that fight, he pointed again, more determined than ever. He shoots again, stairmg furiously at his target, and failed. He failed the third attempt, also, and the fourth. His pride was bleeding, and the voices in his head were about to drive him crazy. The prisoner was close to the scaping point. Milo could imagine that poor´s heart racing, his soul filled with hope and warm dreams of home. A snap of tongue, and then a shot behind him shattered the prisioner´s warm dreams and brought the aprentice some peace. Peace at last! He let the rifle slip to the ground, thankful to the God of Death behind him. The prisoner fell instantly, bringing him a guilty sense of relief./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Damn! I don't know what is happening to me./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-You are tired, that's all./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo breathed deep, through pressed teeth, welcoming the buzzing silence in his head. Upset. Humiliated, but immensely relieved by all of it because now thinking was harder. God, yes, so relieved by the lying corpse on the remote patch of grass he didn't even want to admit it. His head was spinning. His willpower was exhausted. And his thoughts had turned into the monstrous beast without shape that inhabited the white silence in his head, scratching its walls to escape and fill it all with howling moans. He felt like the fauna drawn on Deathmask´s skin was now real and calling his mind home. Why? He had fought relentlessly through more extended battles. Even though days, that one time! He had made it, and his inner fire hadn't lost a bit of its heat! Now he was out of breath, in less than three hours. He looked at the floor, trying to get some serenity. At least, it was finally over; he reminded himself. That calmed his heart down and got the beasts to give him a truce. He had some minutes to recover before the next round. Lord, he needed that! He wouldn't fuck up with the next one. He wouldn't get so nervous. Everything would be fine. They would be done soon, for the prisoners and him./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"A gentle tap on his shoulder asked for his attention. He gazed towards the patch of jungle Aphrodite was pointing at. The prisoner, a blur of dark and red on a field of green, was crawling towards the scape point, still alive. He froze in horror, and looked up, hoping Aphrodite had missed the shot too, hoping to see him get ready to try again and finish the job. But the scandinavian just looked at the crawling man, calmly./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I went for the hip. He won't run anymore. Finishing him is your job./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"A pulse of pain came from his stomach. His relief was popped into a showed of drops flavoured like betrayal, and bitter old instincts of crushing and punching and breaking in half that pretty face and that fake eternal smile in front of him. The hate come back, but as soon as it rose, it faded. He understood Aphrodite now, at least a little bit better than he used to. He didn´t even had his hate to cling on for consolation. He could blame the northern any longer. He had nothing left. There was no compassion to punch into his partner, it had been always there, it was just tied up tightly, as his own should be. This had to be done./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo took some air and looked at the landscape. First, his eyes refused to see the soldier. Then, his hands would refuse to hold the weapon straight. Last, his brain wouldn't figure out how that point could be reached. It didn't matter; he had to try, aim straight and.../p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-You know what? This is stupid; If the shot has a difficult angle and I can't get it, then I can´t get it! I'm not gonna magically improve in a minute!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-The shot is easy enough. You got harder ones under worse conditions when we were fighting. Your hand is not the problem, your mind is./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Well! Obviously, it is not. I had no problem to…!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-You are tired- the sniper interrupted, his sharp voice wrapped in silk, a little bob down from his head that the greek had learned to identify, by observing the sniper while he had to rest from walking on his injured leg, as concealed pain -That is why you keep missing him./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I´ve fought for far fucking longer./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I know- The northern answered softly- It's not your body the one that's tired./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I´ve struggled for far fucking longer, and my fucking mind was fucking fine!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-You weren´t repressing anything then, and you are now. You are forcing yourself to do something you don´t think is right. That it's tiring, and eventually stops working./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Thank you, Sherlock./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-...Oh for fucking God's shake.../p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-WHAT?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo groaned and sweared something about his partner´s parentage. He was dizzy and the man down there was crawling and, goddamnit he was crawling! On the ground! With the hip pierced probably, or God knows what the other guy had...and they were there, talking about it in the midtime! He was crawling and probably crying and probably praying while they were calmly…/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Do you need help?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-FUCK, YES! KILL HIM!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Not that type of help. Sorry./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo sighted. He hated Aphrodite for an instant but he coudn´t keep it up for long, his rationality wouldn't let him. It kept repeating him it was necessary. Him and his conscience, being torn apart by delicate white fingers was necessary. Worse than that. He was learning to read the emotions behind the sniper´s courtesy, and he saw the white fingers tearing him apart bleed through the process as much as he did. If they didn´t give up, nor would he./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-You...You want me to know what to do when I get tired, right? Just in case it fucking happens in a fight...That was the goal of caming here, right? You are one twisted motherfucker! You know that? You are sick./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"There was hate in those words, but not directed towards any specific human, but against life itself. Aphrodite nodded an imperceptible smile on his lips and an even more subtle shadow of pain in his eyes. He kneeled by his friend, who was the hostage of his raging mind again. Milo, in the midtime, just wondered. Was this even justified?Was the war even making any...and goddamnit that man was fucking crawling! He wanted to go somewhere! He had someone waiting for him, that was sure, why else would…/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-You have a chattering mind right now, I bet. Here, change knee, just to get a little movement; and now close your eyes./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Is that gonna be a good idea while fighting?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Missing every fucking shot for thirty minutes is worse than closing your eyes for two, so, yes. Relax, it will take less time than you think. There...now, focus on a sound, or a texture, focus until you can´t think about anything else…Shaka can help you with this better than I when we get back to camp./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo growled and obeyed. He waited a couple of seconds, then shoot, and failed, and looked at Aphrodite, whom shaked his head to indicate that he wasn't killing the guy. Milo tried again. Closed his eyes, did all he was told and some things he wasn't. The body under the trees was almost out of range. This time he went for the chest, an easier target than the head. He had to do it three times at least, because he knew just one bullet in the body might not kill the man. Each time he pulled the triger his teeth grilled, but he managed to do it again, until the prisoner stopped moving. It was over. Over only for the day, but over. Finally over./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The victory tasted nothing like victory should. He allowed the rifle to slide down from his fingers and looked to the ground again. He had killed them all and instead of feeling pride his eyes were getting wet of rage and of shame. He turned his face, thankful to know the other soldier was a step behind and couldn't see him. A tear slipped through his cheek, leaving behind a burning trail of humiliation. He pressed his teeth and tried to force his eyes dry. He pressed to cut the likage, and it seemed to work, so he pressed harder and harder, aiming for perfect dryness and dignity, until something inside of him exploded, and all his body crumbled down./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He was shaking again, from shoulders to feet. His muscles refused to respond. With a hand covering his face he couldn't stop himself from crying. He could barelly manage to do it quietly and not whine while his body shaked. He felt a pat on his shoulder, but couldn't control his voice enough to tell the sniper to get the fuck lost, nor to tell him thank you./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Aphrodite observed from the corner of his eye. He waited for the crisis to pass; it was probably just an outburst, he thought, it woudn´t last long. But as time went on and Milo couldn't still stop himself something melted inside of Aphrodite's heart, to the point of catching fire. Cold, fluid fire was dripping down his soul. The sniper decided it was appreciation and refused to give credit to anything else. He locked away the little Shura in his head that was already running in circles and screaming something about "I told you so." The anoying voice of his dear friend was sent straight to hell with all the tendency to overthink it had brought with it. He pulled Milo up from the shoulder he had patted him on. Once the Greek was on his feet, Aphrodite hughed him tight to keep him from shivering. /p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Good job, idiot. You did it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"When he felt that man so close to him though, his self-control dissapeared in thin air. His whole body twisted to protect every inch of his friend´s back he could physically reach, his face went down to rest by milo´s head, looking for contact. There were no perfectly reasonable explanations to what he was doing. There was only tenderness. The frog hand´t scraped the pot, he thought, and the water was getting warmer...but...justo one more minute there! Just that. It was not going to get that personal...it was just a hugh./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The greek fell against his chest and corresponded, aggressively, with all the hate and the bitterness he was pouring eyes down, and with all the shame of not being able to stop himself. He hid his face against Aphrodite´s shoulder and squeezed his ribs far past the point he knew it hurt. Aphrodite took the fury and the deprivation of air without complaining. His hand caressed Milo´s head as if it rocked a child, with no skill whatsoever. Milo kept a whine in almost by miracle. The weight of the northern forehead was against his head, and his arms kept him safely on his feet, even if his knees where shaking. The only thing that made the shame barearble was that Aphrodite didn´t care if he was crying or not, or so he thought. That idiot just could not care about anything at all./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He finally stopped fighting the tears and let go, pouring the flood of emotions out until he was dry and exhausted, but able to stand by himself./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I´ll tell Shaka to lock the rest of the targets again. We are done for today. I´ll take care of them in the cabins./p  
hr style="color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;" noshade="noshade" size="1" /  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"There was some quick talk by radio, and then nothing but silence as they walked back. Or, at least, that was Aphrodite´s plan./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I thought it was a lie. You being in charge of prisoners./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-That part wasn´t. I´m still the one who does most of the interrogations, and of the executions. The others can't stomach it, not even Saga- He explained calmly- Assholes.../p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Is that what you are going to do now?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Don´t worry about that. Just go to bed. We will continue tomorrow./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I want to go with you./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Sorry. What?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I want to go with you. Is not such a long sentence. I want to see it myself. I´m going./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo´s eyes were reddened still, but they had their unique strength burning back in them, burning strong enough to dry the whole rainforest. The power of initiative escaped from Aphrodite´s hands and ran to join the strongest spirit around. Milo was in control now, and the sniper didn't like it. But couldn't find moral ground to stand on and do anything about it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"- You have been doing this shit for us since the beginning, right? Well, I've been happily doing nothing of it for all those years instead, too good for this, even in the village, but getting benefits from it. And...this crap is hard Aphrodite. And should not be on one person. I'm not a parasite anymore. I´m not a hypocrite or a bloody coward. I am not like all those fucking assholes you were thinking about, is. Not anymore. If I´m as responsible for this as you are, I want to see it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Milo…/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Milo what? Did you have someone by you the first time you cracked like I just did? Was anyone hugging you? No, right? Well, I did have it, and I didn't deserve it any more than you! Are you going to tell me it doesn't happen to you anymore? Ever?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-That doesn't matter anymore/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-It does! It does to me!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Well, that is your problem. We can't j.../p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"- And it matters to you! Don't fucking try to lie to me! I can fucking tell when you do./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He couldn't lie. He couldn't even move. Whatever was going on now was beyond his power, and that was the feeling he dreaded the most. It was the second time in less than a year that he felt like honestly, and wholeheartedly, bowing towards his friend. Worse, he felt like running to him and hiding under his jacket until the end of the days. That impulse was terrifying. More terrifying than anything he had gone through in a long time. He didn't do either thing, of course. He just nodded, unable to refute any of the soldier´s arguments, and walked back to the camp, with a pleasant sense of weakness that scared him stiff. Little Shura run wild across his mind now, bitter and victorious, and Aphrodite knew it was too late to retreat. His heart raced just by thinking of the posibility of huging his friend again, of being the one being conf0orted this time. He observed his reactions from outside his body, his sudden shyness, his pounding heart, with fatalistic resignation. Too late to jump to safety now. He had already boiled to death./p  
hr style="color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;" noshade="noshade" size="1" /  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Covering the prisioner´s eyes was not as sadistic as it sounded if we consider that the whole wall was already painted in brain white and blood red./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Let me do it/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The words came in greek. Milo´s face was opaque, but his eyes were feverishly determined. Aphrodite had asked him to leave several times and tried to discourage him in every way, but it had been useless. He was as stubborn as he was brave. No matter what he had to do, press or bite to kept himself together, he had stayed./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Are you sure…?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-You said I need to get desensitized, right? Well then. Let me do it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I think it has been enough for a day, and I don´t say that easily.../p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I should know what I can take better than you, so don´t try to lecture me about it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-What are you trying to prove, Milo?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I can keep arguing all day./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo stepped forward. Aphrodite looked down to avoid his glance, and gave in. There was nothing else he could do. Milo took the weapon from his hand, determined. He pictured himself lifting it. He pictured himself..he couldn't, he couldn't picture himself shooting. The prisoner, a thin young man with short hair was facing his direction less than a meter away. He had just heard the man tell Aphro the story of his life an hour earlier. They knew all the favorite bands of his brothers and siblings, they knew the names of his cats, and of how annoying it was that nobody in the enemy base ever did the dishes on time. During that seemingly innocent conversation some more important names had slipped out, some targets, and sometimes and places where supplies were delivered to the enemy. Who didn´t hated it when someone else didn´t do the dishes on fucking time, by the way?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Its fine, Milo. I'll do it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-No. Step back./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He wasn't a coward, and he wasn't a hypocrite. He was going to prove it. This man was just like the people he had killed as a soldier for the last months, and as a rebel for the years before. He had killed them willingly and proudly for the cause back then. If he goddamned couldn't bring himself to do it now, he better shot his own damned head, because that meant none of his previous kills had ever been right and he had been a bloody monster for years. Even a bragging one. Yes, he was decided, but still, knew he wouldn't be able to pull the trigger by himself. His hand just refused to./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Aphro…You said that, sometimes, you froze, and couldn't get yourself to shoot, right? That DeathMask had to snap you out of it by radio. He reminded you what to do, and you just zoned out and did it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-..Yes. -The cracked sound of Mask´s voice on the radio echoed in his head, bringing with it the scent of the desert and far mor empathy for Milo than he could handle./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Can you do it for me? I...may need it down the road today. Soon./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Aphrodite lowered his head, which Milo misunderstood as pain again. It was the usual meaning of the gesture, but not this time. This time there were lowering arms and lost eyes. the pain was not alone, it was full of fucking respect. Respect and mercy. Respect as he didn´t even felt for himself and, up to an extent, a rendition. The second rendition Aphrodite made to this young man, deep and absolute enought to require him several seconds to process and understand. With the respect and the rendition the terror came back. It was brutal and wild, but ti wasn´t paralizing, which meant, there was something else inside, together with the respect and the submisiveness and the terror, something mighty enought to control the fear and turn it into an ally. Trust. His eyes got a puzzled sparkle at the discovery. It was too fast, but if that feeling was there, there was no turning back. He should be pleased he had managed to break the kid down finally. He was not. He hated his success with every inch of his soul./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"By the time Aphrodite dared to look at Milo again, his entire set of behaviors had changed. The northern retired his hand from the gun he had tried to take away and put it in Milo´s shoulder. The touch was no longer paternal; now it was a hard grip that hoped to convey strength./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Very well. If you really want to do this, let's go for it- Could he help Milo force himself through this? Yes, but he didn't want to! God, he so didn't want to...From the deepest parts of his guts, he just rejected everything he had done with him so far. He just wanted to take the pain he was causing the greek away; he would gladly suffer it himself instead... But that was not how things worked./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Yes. Sure. I'm right behind you./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Thanks/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Please. Don´t- Nop a pre made answer. A real one. Please, please, please, please, do not say that I can´t hear it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The prisioner was starting to figure out what was going on. He began to try to negotiate frantically, begging them to reconsider. He was not a threat, he explained. He had been recruited by force in the first place! The white hand pressed Milo´s shoulder again, to give him courage. It ripped him appart, but the soldier managed to pull the trigger one more time. He managed to do it for the next victim, too who shook and had a young kid waiting home. And for the one who ilustrated children´s books. And for the one after that. He managed to do all Aphrodite´s pending work of the day. He managed to go to bed, and drop there like a stone, and wake up early the next day, and do the expected practice from the cliff, and then came back down to the cabins and did Aphrodite´s interrogations, and then the unfinished work for that day. He needed a lot of help, but he managed to wake up the next morning, and do it all again, and again, and again, until no one of the unfortunate souls were left, and then, go to bed, and drop like a stone there, knowing that the work was done. All through those days, he had felt like it wasn´t part of reality. His ming was shoked and silent. But when the work was over his conscience went back to live. It brought a long list of his sins with it, for them both to examine it together in minute detail./p  
hr style="color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;" noshade="noshade" size="1" /  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Aphrodite had a light sleep, especially before moving camps. Steps next to his door were more than enough to wake him up. He reached for the gun by his bed and carefully walked away from the range that the door would leave as it opened. Milo identified himself before pushing the door. Aphrodite relaxed, with some idea of what was going to happen next./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"When Milo came in he was wax pale, almost green, slow like a zombie, with purple circles around his eyes and grey lines of shadow going through his face. he looked five years older than when he of that was new, not even the opaque souless gaze. Milo´s transformation had been ongoing for the last days, they all had noticed but himself./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The body stood there in silence, looking at Aphrodite's bed, not even at the owner, without saying a word. Aphrodite coudn´t look at him for long. He had seen friends with emthat/em glanze before, he had seen it in himself and laughted bitterly, but seeing it in Milo was even worse. The greek moved his empty eyes towards him and guilt forced Aphrodite to fight for his breath./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Aphro../p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-..Yes?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I…-silence-I´ve been thinking that...well, I´ve been thinking...and...Well. After all, I could die tomorrow, and you too, and I trust you. I don't know why, but...I... really trust you. I is that...Okay?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The voice came as a whisper, as a dying cry for help. Milo saw understanding in his partner's eyes, maybe too much of it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Aphrodite´s guts twisted and his heart contracted, as he moved aside in the bed, understanding what his friend was looking for. Milo sat by him, and looked at the sniper's body from top to bottom as if it was a strange amchine he needed to use./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Sure. Came here./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo took that assigned permission, and jumped on the northern like a beast, tackling him in what could either be a kiss, or attempted murder. He had no clue of what to do. He had no clue how to do it. And he was shy and confused and shaking and breaking inside, scattering pieces of the soul all over the bed. He just needed the pain to stop and had heard that it could be done that way. He was looking for the promised relief with frenetic despair. Magic didn´t just happen. As he moved, he felt increasingly lost, increasingly impatient. In an outburst of frustration, he bit Aphro´s lips with all his strenght and drew blood out of them both, putting them through. The metallic taste snapped him out of his rage for a second. Aphrodite hadn´t even moved yet. He knew he had to let the kid take some energy out, even if it was on him. When the first pause came, he grabbed Milo´s wrists and rolled to the side to end up on top, putting his weitght on them and holding him against the bed./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo observed Aphrodite with a spark of fury. He tried to free his hands, but could´t. The northern was too strong and had his weight to help him. Milo was trapped, and that actually made him feel...better. Far better. His eyes moved up in wonder, sparkling by the discovery with the light of dyiong hope. He didn´t know what to do. He didn´t know how to do it. And now it didn´t matter because he was defenceless and coudn´t do anything. It made him feel...Free. He tried the strength of his friend´s arms again, praying for the grip to be stronger than what he could break from that position even if he tryed with all his might. It was. He breathed in relief, free from responsibility, free from choice, and calmed down immediately. The maddening tension left his body in a long while he didn't care to repress, because it was saving him from madness. His soul clinged on the safety those hands gave him, a promise someone else was in charge now, someone he trusted. He didn't know he needed to behold, but it worked./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I get it now-he wispered to the Aphrodite of weeks ago that was interacting with past him in a memory, far, far away./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The sniper looked calm and in control, despite his bleeding lips. he knew what he was doing, Milo though. He must have done this for others before, and he must have needed it himself quite a lot for everything to feel so natural. That thought used to hurt Milo, but not anymore. Now, it just made sense. All that mattered was that, as he struggled weakly against his partner, the weight on his chest went away and his mind got filled with soothing fog. Just for that he would be grateful for a lifetime. He tried to focuss his vitreous eyes and soon gave up, looking at the heavens beyond instead. He begged to the gods above, to the god above him, with the curly hair and the bleeding lips that run like a red river, to relieve him from all pain./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Milo sighted alellujah and prayed. His voice was a hoarse whisper trembling in his mouth./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Make it go away Aphro. Make me stop thinking about them...Please…/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Aphrodite bit his tongue, trying to keep the overload of memories in check. He caressed Milo´s cheeck and gave him a reassuring smile while his own heart broke to pieces. It didn´t matter; he just hoped Milo woudn´t hear the sound from outside. He had done that to the greek. He knew it, it killed him, and it wasn´t even over yet./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He lowered his head and kissed his partner softly. Tickling him a little with his lips, just to move his attention away from anything else that was tormenting him. He kissed his face, and turned him around under himself to caress his back, or so he made it look. There was just one goal in that move. If he broke to cry, which felt quite possible, Milo wouldn't see it. He lined down again, and whispered in his friend's ear with real love and fake serenity. It was late for Milo to escape from that hell. It was also too late for him to escape from the kid./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I will try./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"His voice was shaking, but his hands were warm and still. Milo smiled to the air, a cracked survivor smile, and sighted any control over the situation away, begging for it to never came back. He trusted the other man. He trusted he could do magic now. He trusted he had his back. Just that trust in itself made he feel better./p  
hr style="color: #000000; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;" noshade="noshade" size="1" /  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-So... you are throwing me to the lions, after all./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-It´s not like that, and you know it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Deadmask wrapped his arms around his friend, and rested his chin on the northern´s shoulder./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-I know. It's the most reasonable thing to do, technically. I understand it- he sighted- I don't trust Mu, or Aiolos´s brother, or the bloody coward giant, and nor do you./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-We used to./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Yes, we used to-Aphrodite hugged back his friend´s arms, holding them and pressing his back against his chest./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Be careful, okay?- Deathmask smirked, and hided his face against his friend's dirty hair, and kissed his neck with afection./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"-Go to bloody hell.../p 


	7. Graduation Day

No one believed their eyes the first time it happened.

It had been intentional, they thought. It must have. It needed to be. Aphrodite didn't miss shots. He didn´t. Never. No matter what. That was a fact. That was a physic´s law. That was science. That was part of the structure of the universe. No matter where they were or what was going on around, he just did not. It was one of the few certainties those miserables had to hold on. Shaka never got caught, Saga had a plan for everything, Aiola didn't know fear and Aphrodite didn't miss shots. That´s what God had written in golden letters when each of them was born, in the same way, that he had written that Earth was to be round and the sun was to rise from the East every day. And most of the crew would have had an easier time accepting that Earth was diamond shaped with a tartan pattern on it, than accepting that their partner had missed a target by accident. Because Earth, from space, they had never seen, while the northern had displayed a 100% accuracy under the wors circumstances, in front of all of them, since anybody knew him. Still, impossible as it was, it was happening. It was happening over and over again, and getting worse each passing day, until the most patient member of the group was starting to lose his nerve.

It started less than a week after DeathMask´s death, and had just gotten increasingly worse as time went by. Aphrodite couldn't focus, he couldn't shoot straight, and, worse of it all, he couldn´t care about it. He was perfectly aware of it all. Of the missing, of the wandering mind, and of the not caring even if he tried to care. Nobody was more shocked and more outraged by his own inability to do his work than himself. He was the only one completely non forgiving about each miss, but whatever was happening in his head, it was far beyond his control, and even he had to acknowledge it in the end.

Milo observed in impotence how his friend slipped down a dark void no amount of sex, help or determination could save him from. His hands were steady, his eyes were sharp, but his mind was not there. It didn't matter how hard he tried to drag it down to Earth, it was as useless as trying to catch wind with a net.

Eventually, he retired voluntarily from missions, he knew he just wasn't reliable. That was a wise and responsible decision to make, as well as the next nail in a coffin that was being closed really fast.

His nocturnal confidences with Milo had also come to an end. He had missed one of their unofficial dates for the first time just the night before he missed the first rifle shot, and he hadn´t met his lover under the stars since then. Milo hadn´t been able even to drag him into a four minutes chat since that day, let alone get him to stargaze with him again. What willpower and fear had been unable to separate, was now separated by the absolute lack of any will. Aphrodite just avoided Milo. He avoided all other soldiers as a rule. He avoided conversations. He avoided any sort of mental activity, not by choice but by instinct. He knew in his gut that getting his brain to work would be a form of suicide.

Soon he coudn´t even bring himself to sustain atention long enough to remember a full sentence adressed to him. He coudn´t do almost any job that required sequencing, no matter how simple. He couldn't rest either. Whenever he closed his eyes, the scenario of DeathMask´s death repeated itself, over, and over, and over again, until he felt he was about to go insane. It wasn't a dream. He could have taken a dream, no matter how bloody or how terrible. He could have taken flashbacks and nightmares, he had done it before, but this was different. It was a lucid dream, a scenario he thought was real, and in which he had perfect control of his own actions. The events didn't march in front of his eyes like in a movie, he was literally transported back in time to the same situation one more time. He thought it was real every time, he forgot it had happened before, and had to make the same choice he had made then, all over again. Every night, lucid and in control, he forced his soul through the same path of thorns until it bended, it broke, and allowed him to pull the goddamned trigger and blow his best friend's skull into a million pieces.

That was the man who had let him cry on his shoulder years ago, while remorse was tearing him apart fiber by fiber. That was the man that used to trade him pickles for tomato slices when they got burgers in the base. That was the man that had fucking stopped a rescue mission, after being brutally tortured for a year, because he wasn't going anywhere if Aphrodite was left behind. He had come back to get him. He had gone back to get him. There are just no words anyone that hadn´t gone through one of those camps could understand. Aphrodite hadn´t even been there for more than seven weeks, he ahd been a year, and still, he had gone back. He would shiver just remembering that. The sound of the steps through the dark corridor, a pace he knew. The relief and the panic, and the thankfulness and the dread again, and his friend recaptured while he was still chained to the bars and coudn´t do anything but watch. He remembered not being able even to stand but managing to break out of the cell not many days after, and taking Mask with him. And the steps. The steps had been in his head all along, that´s what had allowed him to stand and move. Those steps, in his head, gave him strenght. That same ponderous pace that was in his head now. He didn´t remember being wanted in any family for more than six months, and then, that man had gone back. For him. There. "You started it" he had said when Aphrodite had asked him why through the bars.

Mask had also spent most of his life rolling through foster homes, Aphro noticed they were alike when they met, maybe that´s what he meant. He had always been a man, never a child. He was the man who laughed in the face of death. He laughed loud, laughed hysterically among corpses and then dragged Aphrodite´s shirt and begged him with eyes wide and vitreous to save him from going insane. And aphrodite would pat his shoulder and press his teeth and try to crack some stupid joke to make Mask laugh, because he didn't know what else to do.

DeathMask also loved birds. For all his cruelty and pride he melted at the sight of a bunch of feathers and two little wings. Nobody there knew that. For them, he was just a huge loudmouth and a complete psychopath. They had never seen him rising orphaned robin chicks with a tenderness he'd never show towards any human, except, maybe, towards Aphrodite, once or twice. He did in the desert when the wounds and the fever had Aphrodite delirious and on the verge of death. Mask then had cared for him as he would for one of his little birds. Even the techniques had been the same, keeping him warm, checking on him often...because he just did´t know any better. The sniper almost smiled remembering it. That man just adored birds. That's why he had become a pilot in the first place. Aphro remembered when he confessed him he wanted to fly, with eyes full of dreams. The flight hadn't brought him what he expected, that was for sure.

They had broken out soon after being recaptured, and this time it was his time to carry his friend out, but he had been in far too long. Aphrodite remembered the first "attack" of violence. Mask killed two of the kids of the base. Aphrodite had to run from the other fucking building to the pilot´s showers before they shot him down like an animal, and wrestle him on the floor until he stopped moving, because no one in that crowd of cowards that were his partners had the balls to do so. He was too scary and far too strong, and he wasn´t a kind guy so nobody gave a fuck deep down.

As he aimed carefully to the side of the head, he could feel Mask´s rough skin of his hand. That was the man whose´s hand he had held through endless hospital nights, because, even if he couldn't save his friend from hell inside his head, he sure as fuck was not leaving him alone while he tried to escape. He remembered himself crumbled on an uncomfortable chair or lying by Mask´s side on the bed if he was getting too nervous, and whispering to him whatever shit in bad italian he could manage to say. It helped him, hearing italian, it helped him so much it was heartbreaking. In those endless nights he spent tied to a bed, and in more drugs, one could name with one breath, Mask would hum the same old sicilian song over and over again. Aphrodite had done his best to forget it but could hear it now. He could smell hospital detergent piercing through his nose, and hear the nurses chatter about how the man on that bed was like a demon. Funny, because that demon wouldn't even struggle with the restrains as far as he could feel Aphrodite nearby. They had eventually figured that out and allowed him to stay with him at all times. He had eventually gotten resistant to sedation, but it just took the sniper´s hand on his shoulder for him to relax and let the doctors do whatever they had to, even if he was too delirious even to understand where he was. That is what trust means. That is all you get after going through hell with someone else, and sometimes you realize it is worth it. Mask´s trust was really hard to earn and easy to lose, but Aphrodite had received it and managed never to lose it. That was the only thing he was proud of in his whole fucking life.

He had earned that privilege the first time they slept together. Mask had come looking for him in the barracks after something had gone terribly wrong in his first flight missions. The sniper never knew what it had been, he just remembered finding himself, barely sixteen, under a flood of bitter tears and wet kisses he didn´t want, with the broken soul of his friend on his hands, the rest of the barrack pretending not to look, and totally no clue about what he was supposed to do. His lips curved in a bitter muxture of smile and silent wine, even in his dream. Back then, he had told the italian things were going to be okay. They had not. Things had only gotten worse.

As he got ready to pull the trigger, his eyes would go foggy. His hand would feel weak, and he would hear heavy breathing from the bed and feel the shaking under his hands, and the wet tan cheeks and the humming going over and over and over again until he felt like either leaving the room or asphyxiating the patient with a pillow. He heard the shots and feared the mines and felt the burning sun of the desert and the freezing nights, and felt almost safe in them because someone he trusted had his back. He had been his guardian angel through the first war, the voice of God through the radio that kept telling him everything was going to be alright. The italian would laught at the mines too, at everything; that took a particular type of courage Aphrodite hadn´t seen in anyone else, and that he respected and admired. Mask had the most stupid sense of humor and had the tackiest musical taste on Earth. The artists he liked would make any grandmother proud. Only he had been allowed to discover that. Soon, nobody would ever know what DeathMask used to be, how he used to crack up at fart jokes. How he used to look for Aphrodite in the airport whenever he came back from a difficult mission because he had nobody else to wait for him. Nobody else would know how his eyes lightened up when he found the Swede among the people waiting, and how epically he failed at hiding it. Nobody else would know the hopeful tone his voice got whenever he called the blonde little brother.

That man had been his brother, his first lover, he had kissed his neck the last time they talked. He had kissed him with all the tenderness in the world and then had accused him of signing his death sentence. And now, he was about to fulfill that accusation and scatter his brains all over the jungle. He was about to blow everything that made him human and nobody knew about into nutritious soup for animals. Little bits would fly straight to the grass. Convenient lunch rations for leopards and insects. Stupid insects, feeding in bits of encyclopedic knowledge about how to take care of finches.

In those lucid dreams, every bloody night, Aphrodite would go over what they meant for eachother. He would struggle with himself again, and then, BANG! The fictitious explosion of crimson would wake him up. Only then would he remember it had all already happened, and this one had just been an illusion.

The scenery might have been fictional, but the struggle of each night was too real. After each dream he sweared that on the next nightmare, he wouldn't shoot. He wasn´t going through the same again. He just couldn't. He would be dizzy and breathless in the middle of memories he coudn´t share with anyone and know he coudn´t take this one more time.

In the next nightmare, though, he would forget that promise, and forget it was a nightmare. He would gather whatever mental energy he had left, and he would shoot again, because he didn't know it was an illusion, because it was his duty to do so, as a soldier and as a friend, and as a brother he liked to think whne he was feeling far too alone to play tought anymore. Then, the red fireworks would color the grass, and he would wake up, too exhausted to feel guilt or rage. He would look at the black sky, and promised himself not to shoot in the next nightmare, and then the next nightmare would came, and he would forget again.

Sometimes, he would try to exhaust himself beyond dreaming before going to sleep and seek Milo´s help for it. Sometimes, he would just try to skip sleep altogether. But none of those worked. Sooner or later, he had to close his eyes, and if he refused to do so at night, it would happen during the day. No matter how long he could stay awake, dreams would catch up with him eventually. Maybe he shouldn't call it dreaming. Maybe, when it happens to you awake, and after four sleepless days straight you should call it hallucinating. But, dream or hallucination, the subject was always the same, the same people, the same sound, the same dead end.

When he pulled the trigger in dreams, he never missed Deathmask´s head. But, in real life, he had became just useless.

Milo had to take on Aphrodite´s responsibilities almost entirely. He wasn't alone, the northern would still train him and stand by him while he worked. The pale hand on his shoulder calmed Milo´s nerves and cleared his mind. The advices were always right what he needed. Aphrodite couldn't do things himself, but he still knew what needed to be done, when he could force himself to keep track of the situation for enough time, which was more and more uncommon.

Eventually, and far earlier than what he desired, Milo was completely on his own. Aphrodite could try to be with him physically, but will often disconnect from whatever was going on, or react just too slowly. He wasn´t there. He coudn´t, first, and later he didn´t want either.

Outside of those shared moments, Milo only saw his lover when he came to his bed, looking for warmth and a way to forget. He wouldn't stay afterwards, and if he did, he wouldn't talk. Often he went to Shura instead, or Shura went to him. They connected at a different level. They both had known Mask for longer than anyone else. Milo didn't care. He wasn't jealous, which came as a surprise to him. He understood what was happening. It wasn't about sex, it never was, with Deadmask it wasn't either. If only he had known earlier...if he hadn´t been an idiot, a child...Maybe the italian and him could have been friends.

Was it sex with him? Was it friendship like with them? He didn't know, and,during those brief instants in which Aphrodite would close his eyes under him, and look in peace, he didn´t care .

Outside those moments of fake happiness even optimistic Milo had to admit they were all fucked. Their situation was more desperate each time. That was the discussion of that night around the fire. They were, effectively, four soldiers down. They were hiding like rats, and the cat would eventually catch on with them. Needless to say that Saga´s initial scheme had gone to hell a long time ago.

Shaka had disappeared, which was not unusual, and his job, but that was enough to get people nervous in the pressent situation. Aphrodite talked that night, for the first time in weeks, and said that he wanted to go front line and cover DeathMask´s position. Since he couldn't do his usual job, and since Milo was doing it very well, the idea made perfect sense. It was a reasonable thought every reasonable man had to agree with, and Milo had opposed it heads on. He wasn´t letting someone with no atention span and a deadwish jump in front of the bullets, and anybody with a different opinion better be ready for a fight.

Aphrodite didn't argue much. He couldn't. He couldn't care about anything for long enough to sustain an argument, and the rest of the group could smell danger around Milo and decided to keep their opinion for themselves, so the conversation died there. Saga would do the planning that was needed, once his communications were reestablished. Until then, things would continue as they were now. They would just do basic survival and scouting, and Aphrodite would wait behind. Almost nobody agreed with that, but almost nobody wanted to risk getting Milo mad. The kid had been a year among them now; he was one more, which meant he had become as much of an insane clockwork bomb as everyone else and had to be operated with caution.

* * *

They were leaving to recognize terrain and look for opportunities, water, miracles, or hopefully swords ingrained in stone. As he, Shura and Aiolia were walking away, Milo saw Aphrodite searching through Deathmask´s things. He didn't say anything. He just felt his heart drop to the ground. Any hope of his friend recovering his sanity was gone. Not even his ego felt hurt for his inability to help; it was not about him anymore. Very altruistic thoughts to entertain, but they still didn't change a thing.

They left and came back days after. Aphrodite had an inky needle in his hand and was quite entertained tattooing something on his leg. For the size of the picture and the amount of repugnant detail on it, Aphro had been working on it since they left. In was a gory and revolting scene. A skull blown to pieces, with bits of flesh and blood and bone covering most of Aphro´s tight. Milo recognized the face that was half hung from the skull. Mask was looking back at him with both eyes, even if one of the eyes was still clinging from the skull, while the other had been propelled to the canvas´s knee.

-Mask used to dream of his- Aphro explained when he felt Milo´s breath on his shoulder, without interrupting his task. He didn´t look back but just knew who he was - He started doing them himself, but eventually asked us to help. I did most of the back and the right hand... He would get the picture down or describe it, and we would draw it on him the best we could. I think everybody but you did something. Even Aiolia, you know? They didn't get along that bad before everything went to shit. They were quite close...for Mask´s standards, but I don't think Aiolia was aware of that.

Aphrodite stopped, for no reason, anybody could tell, eyes lost on his reddened skin and the memories beyond it. Milo kneeled by him and inspected the macabre design that was now polluting the perfect beauty of his lover. Aphrodite´s leg was shaking a little, involuntarily, proof that it had been worked on for far too long. Milo held it gently with both hands, to help to keep it steady, and tried to find his lover´s eyes, with no luck.

\- He had nightmares, ¿you know? After we...well, after he helped me out with something. He….it just came back. And. Then he started doing this. He said he wouldn't dream of it if he had seen it in real life. He said it was like if he owned the monsters now, that it helped him control it...It worked for him. It worked with...all that happened to us. So...I thought it might be worth a try.  
-Will you tell me what all that happened to you were at some point...?- Milo asked softly. He expected Aphrodite to pretend that he didn't hear him, and that is exactly what the man did.

The sniper lifted his blue eyes for the first time, looking for his lover with a slightly, very very slightly, insecure spark in them. Nobody would have believed he could feel such a thing as fear of rejection. But, again, nobody could believe he could miss shots either, and he had.

-Does it bother you?

-Hm...No. Not really.

The greek was quite surprised about his own answer. That dantesque image had every ingredient that could possibly bother him, and still, it did not. It didn´t even feel like a defect, it just made too much sense to be a problem, even an aesthetic problem. He just understood it. Somehow, Aphrodite made much more sense with that scene drawn on than without it.

-You draw beautifully. Even this.

-Thanks.

-I always thought Mask's tattoos had some skill... unsettling as they were.

-He wanted them to be that way.

He leaned forth and kissed Aphro´s inner thigh, very softly, at the edge of the ink. The sniper gasped in surprise, and blushed, feeling shy as a kid. That was a stupid reaction, he tried to reproach himself, considering they had already kissed and bite each other in far weirder places. But it wasn't the leg the greek was kissing this time. They both knew. And kissing eachother´s demons so directly was completelly new.

Milo finished the kiss slowly, and looked at the picture again, tracing the external lines with his fingers, without actually touching the skin, while Aphrodite tried to slow his breath down and prayed for the rubour to disapear. His self control was not in it's highest point at the time, and another act of kindness like that would bring him to a total breakdown.

-Robins?- Milo asked, with surprise, as he noticed how blown brains turned into beautiful silhouettes of finches and robins, still unfinished. A caress on the line got a shiver of pain as a reaction- For how long had you known DeadMask?

-I...(sigh)..don't think I can tell you.

-True, I forgot...but...you don't sound as assertive as usual about that.

The youngest of the two still didn't look up, and his lover eventually realized he was not actually interested in the picture, but was giving him time to calm down. That didn't help Aphrodite feel any less vulnerable in front of that man that, suddenly, was proving to know far more about him he never intended anyone to know, but, surprisingly, it did help him feel much safer.

Maybe this time...He sighed loudly.

-It bugs me. To know that, once I die, nobody will know shit about him. He could have been killer robot from the future for all the rest knows..it would make no difference for what he had left behind...He was not just that. He wasn´t, and it bugs me to know that it doesn't matter.

\- I know what you mean- He knew the feeling well, even though, for months, he had been unable to put it on words. He looked for Aphrodite's eyes, like if he needed a confirmation about and unasked question -Hey...If you have some minutes...for some light conversation...You can tell me how you learned to draw. Or what type of things you used to draw...back then.

-I don't think I can do that either.

\- I still need to understand how a reasonable man like you, who likes roses, can see anything beautiful in german cars.

Milo crafted a playful smile, out of effort and good will, and got a genuine smile in return. Sad, but honest.

-Sounds like a plan.- a bit of a sharper smile- You are fucking persistent.

-Maybe you are fucking worth it.

* * *

-You got it!

-And you sound so surprised! I'm offended now!- Aphro charged his weapon again and shot almost without looking. The can, barelly a touch of silver in the distance, shaked and fell down the rocky shelf.

Milo didn´t know if the correct thing at the moment was to punch Aphrodite´s arm, hugh him, or kiss him, so he did it all in an euphoric chaos that Mu didn´t feel like interrupting until it was over.

-So...I assume you are back in the game, Aphrodite?

-Fuck, yeah, little lamb. You can bet for that.

It wasn't a one-day recovery, but it was pretty close to it. Less than a week after the picture was completed Aphrodite got his perfect aim back, and a bit of his sarcasm too. Milo observed the miracle with a smile on his face. He was not the praying type, but he still thanked DeathMask in silence for having left that silver bullet behind. Ironic. He hated the italian when he was alive, but now he felt like he owned that man everything. He would drink a glass of wiskey in his honor if he just could get his hands on one. He even wished for a second chance to get to know what was behind all those smirks and agression.

* * *

-I think Shaka is the problem. Why should we trust that guy more than Saga?- Shura shook his head, uncomfortable with the idea of a change in leadership.

-Because we have no choice! If Shaka were using espionage on us, we would be dead already! So let's forget about that, it is not him! He has easier ways to get rid of us, like just fucking starve us, if he wanted to. You know that!

The argument between Aiolia and Shura was escalating far too quickly when Milo and Aphrodite arrived. The rest of the crew were staring at eachother. Quiet as if they had seen a ghost.

-What is going on?-Mu answered, still frozen by the radio.

-It was Shaka. Saga has lost it. Completely.

Milo´s eyes lightened up in a flash of optimism that nobody else ´s good mood vanished on the spot.

-So, it was him screwing us up all the time?No spy?

-We can't know that- Mu insisted- We just know he has gone insane now. It might explain it all, or it might be in addition to it all…- Aphrodite shaked his head, about to overload. Shura and him shared a desperate glance.

-Nobody else knows enough about the enemy bases, or can manage the group as he did, or can plan half as well. This is the fucking end.- The northern exposed. Anyone who knew a word or two about war and strategy would agree with him. Shura cursed in Spanish through his teeth, covering his face with one hand. Aiolia was staring intently at Aphrodite, trying very hard to deny that he agreed with that prediction. Mu, however, looked at the radio and entertained a thought for a long time, before he dared to speak.

-Actually...we may have one option left. -Mu sighted, and looked at the rest of the crew, especially at the starkest elements in it- You are not going to like it, though.

The "you" was directed to two elements of the group. Shura crossed his arms, defensive. Aphrodite rose a delicate brow.

* * *

-No Way- Aphrodite sentenced, without even raising his voice. Shura conveyed the same message, with a little bit of added color.  
-Couldn´t you have told us that this guy existed before? Damnit Mu!-Aiolia was beyond furious, but nobody cared.

-That doesn´t matter now- Dhoko crossed his arms and said no with his head, repeatedly-I fought by him and you know I appreciate him more than anyone Mu, but we can't trust someone who has been a prisoner of war so recently. We just can not! We agreed it was a rule long ago.

-You weren't so fucked up long ago -Milo observed, all impatience. There was a new door open adn he wanted to charge right through it as soon as possible- We better hope he hasn't gone insane and take the chance

-"Hope" is not my favorite criteria for decision making, kid

-Well, cry me a river, grandpa, because it is all we have left now.

-You both had worked with him already! He was the leader before Saga-Mu was more convinced of that new plan by the minute, and tried to get some support from Aphrodite and Shura. A really bad place to look for it. Aphrodite shook his head.

-How did he escape anyway? That is too strange- Aphrodite asked. Shura nodded and added.

-You can't trust a former prisoner. You don´t know what is in his head anymore

Mu made a soft sound of frustration and looked at them.

-I understand your concern, but we have no choice. You said it yourselves; without Saga, we are over, there is nothing to lose anymore - It was a simple argument and more than enough. The older soldiers conceded defeat with a variety of gestures, and Dhoko pushed the radio towards the medic again, way more upset than would seem reasonable to expect

-Call everybody then, kid. We will need to gather and discuss a lot about this.

A couple of days later, with Saga in restrains and all survivors together, Shion became the new leader of the group, with three votes against and everybody else in favour. Aiolia and Shura went out together to bring him to the core of the forest, while the rest dealt with their fear and frustration the best they could. Whatever plan Shion had, or was capable of coming up with, better be a good one.

* * *

Milo observed the new arrival with curiosity. Aphrodite had told him that he was the main commander of the group before he was captured, more than two years ago; that he was a competent fighter and a great strategist, and that he didn't trust him at all. Extracting more information had been impossible. Aphrodite would get cranky whenever Milo tried to deepen in the issue. He seemed to smell storm clouds coming his way, and, for once in his life, he had something he really didn't want the storm to destroy. But it was not in his power to prevent the disaster, if it was going to came.

When Shion gathered them all he was very clear about what was going to happen from then on. They would have to play double face if they wanted to have any chance at victory. Aiolia didn't liked it, Aldebaran didn't like it, the honorable idiots didn't like it, Aphrodite rolled his eyes about to strangle someone, and Milo lowered his head, trying to reconcile opposing voices in his mind.

-Shaka has managed to create the rumour of some of our men being forced to stay here. You have a reputation, the enemy to hop in happiness at the thought of getting you on their side. We will have to use that and infiltrate some kids in their base, we are no longer in a position of getting inside and kill their new commander any other way.

The details of the plan went on. Even the most skeptic among the crew had to admit it could work. Some of them were not going to make it out alive, but they were all brave and they were all willing to take the risk, even if the details of who and why we're not quite clear

-Shura, Aphrodite...Saga. Can I talk to the three of you in private?- The voice of their new leader approached them, almost as a whisper, when everybody else had dispersed to attend their tasks after the final reunion. The three men looked at each other, knowing immediately what they all had in common. They nodded, and followed the new commander to listen to the bits of the scheme he had conveniently kept a secret from everyone else.

* * *

The holder tightened, the barrel in the chin crest aaaand done! Milo stopped the timer and looked at the number on it with satisfaction. How did he ever find mounting this thing hard at all?

Happy with his result, he dismantled the weapon again, ready to beat his own record. As he was doing so, two thin arms wrapped themselves around him, and Aphrodite´s chin rested on his shoulder light like a bird.

-Good mark- Aphro whispered, lovingly

-Thank you-He purred and turned, in full cuddle mode all of the sudden- I had a great teacher. What was your best time, again?

Aphrodite laughed at the tease and loosened his hugh to let Milo turn and kiss him.

-You are not stopping until you beat it. Right?

-You would feel disappointed if I did. I want you to feel proud of me.

-Hm. What if I told you, you have already beaten my best time?

-Then, you would be lying, and we both would know it- The sniper laughed softly until another kiss sealed his mouth. Aphrodite retired his arms from his lover´s shoulders and took some time of apparent contemplation.

-I love you, Milo- He informed, matter of factly, and then, just stood up to leave. He made sure to interrupt before Milo could recover from the shock and say something. He wanted to hear nothing more of it- Please, do not bring it up again. That is a threat. I don't want an answer, or to hear about it. I just wanted you to know.

The northern disappeared among trees before his friend could react. The element of surprise had been on his side.

* * *

It all made sense now. The gaps in the plan of the insane old man, the way in which he had gathered with the eldest ones, the knew he had fought with already, the ones he knew had the discipline to endure what he was asking of them. It made sense now, but he couldn't pull the trigger, not for all his life. The eyes of the battalion whose´s trust he had to earn were all on him and his obviously shaky hand. Aphrodite was on his knees, looking down. Even the boldest men don't enjoy looking at the canon of a gun if they know what comes next.

He hadn't signed up for this. He understood why they hadn´t tell him the whole story until it was too late, he would have never accepted it. But now, there was no turning back, it was either one of them, or them both, and with them both came everybody else. And that last option was the one that he was choosing, because even if his brain told him he was a coward, he just couldn't do it. Saga´s curse was coming back at him with all it's might. He remembered it now, word by word, he was almost traveling to the past, standing in front of the group for the first time, escited as a child and full of stupid ideas about how courage looked like. It was certainly not pale and delicate, nor was it meant to shot from a distance and have beautifull blue eyes. He was such an idiot, and Saga had cursed him for life. Word by word, they all had come true.

He had indeed been observing Aphrodite since they met. He had learned to recognize the rhythm of his steps, he had memorized the most subtle of his expressions and could read through them. He knew his voice when he was happy, his voice when he was sad, his voice when he was panting and about to cum. He knew he liked roses and cars, that he thought that things are beautifull if they are usefull, and he couldn't cook. If he closed his eyes he could see the smallest details of his face. He was terrified of saying "I love you", but had said it anyway.

He was learning, now, as Saga said, the courage it takes to know someone completely and then killing them in cold blood, and he knew he didn't have enough. He also knew he was dooming the whole group to failure, that it was dooming himself and his friend to a death far slower and far more sadistic than anything he could ever imagine, that he was´t saving anyone, but still, he couldn't do it. His hand was frozen.

Time went by, and the enemy squadron got nervous. Aphrodite rose his eyes from the floor, blue and perfect, with the fury of a demon burning in them. He looked at Milo straight in the eye and spit some firm words, in a german-sounding language nobody there could understand, not even Milo himself. But that didn´t matter, because it was not about the words, it was about the voice. The sharp voice his hand knew, that it had obeyed before. His body reacted alone and pulled the trigger. There were cheers and hugs from people around as Aphrodite fell to the floor, in an explosion of crismond, like a gigantic red rose.

He did not know what language those words were in, he had never heard them, but he knew what they said. "Fucking shoot". They had come from an old radio far in the desert all the way through time and pain to be delivered there, and something told Milo they would never leave him alone.

He didn't crack down then. He smiled and left the body of his lover, his friend, his love, behind, for profanation or worse, and went along with the plan. He did what he had to do, not caring about who else had fallen. His hand was steady, his eyes were sharp, his aim was simply perfect, as if the hand of a ghost was helping his own, keeping the rifle from shaking while his soul crumbled down.

They were two days of carnage and non sleeping and fear and fight, and when it all was over and he was screaming to the night like a madman he knew, with dead enemies all around, that Aphrodite would have been proud.


	8. Epilogue

"-Yes, I´m sure!"  
"-It´s gonna take a while to finish something so big."  
"-I don't fucking care!"  
"It felt better when that was done, yes, but still not perfect. Aphrodite and DeathMask had had the right idea though. You needed to be able to see it, to see the face of your nightmare outside of your head for it to leave you at least. Milo kept dreaming. Dreaming of that shot. The sound kept chasing him. Dreaming of the sound of the body dropping to the ground, of the deformed cranium and the red and white. But most of all, he kept dreaming of them both, alive and away, among roses, among people, in the streets of a city with no bloody trees anywhere to be seen. He kept dreaming of what could have been, so vividly he prayed never to wake up. He always woke up though, when his imagination couldn't fill in the small details he didn´t know, like what brand of wine Aphrodite would order, or what type of movies he would like. He then opened his eyes in despair, with the feel of an invisible hand still holding his. Once, in his dreams, he had tried to joke with Aphrodite by making fun of his name, and then, he had woke up, when he realized he didn´t know it. Some things he knew though. He knew his favorite flower, and his favorite color, and his favorite type of sweet, and his favorite food, and his favorite band, and that he hated tomato in burgers. He also knew he had been in at least two wars before this one, and had been a marine before sniping. He wielded those treasured bits of trivia like revenge against the universe. The universe never looked back at his vengeance though, because it didn´t care about him or any of them, and soon Milo couldn't tell the things he had made up about Aphrodite to feel his dreams from the things he remembered.  
The tattoo kept growing, The rose of the tip of the rifle that took over most of his neck got company. Lots of other roses. A bed of roses and abysm and beautiful home which Aphrodite was either curious to see or either had seen and liked, in the background. Roses grew from the bed to his shoulder, where he could see them easily, and stretched their thorny branches down his arm, growing among smashed skulls and jungles and stars, bright bright starry nights shared with the most beautiful creature in the planet. More partners died. Shura on the same day than Aphrodite, Saga soon after, Kanon after a while, and the painting feed on them to grow more. It got knives and swords for Shura. It got birds and bombs for DeathMask, and the Eiffel tower for wherever the hell Camus was from exactly, and brainy quotes from a French author Milo didn't even like. It got twin figures, twin roses, twin anything that tormented him at the time. It got all that, and it got poker cards from an incomplete deck they all shared, and more roses, and laughter and tears and everything in between./p  
"By the end of the war, that he now knew useless, the left half of his body was completely covered in ink. He still dreamed with roses though, with roses and with Aphrodite´s face twisted by the pain of the raw surgery Mask was performing on his leg to extract bullet fragments. He had never seemed so handsome to Milo than on that day when he first realized the sniper was human, a human with a mask that was killing him slowly.  
P style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He dreamed of stars, stars in the company, the warmth of the other body crawling to him through the grass, and of nights of sad pleasure in strong white arms. How would those nights had been, if they could have happened with nothing to mourn for if they had been about the two of them only. What would he give just to feel it once; just once...just that...  
"He dreamed of that painted smile, of ripping it off and kissing the muscle and nacked teeth behind it, of liking the real man that he got to see through glimpses of honesty, all scars, and bitterness. He had eventually managed to rip the fake grim off, but it hadn't been with violence but by paying his heart as a prize. Still then, the fake mask always crawled back between them and, eventually, it had deceived him and robbed him with the chance of saying goodbye. Of saying "I love you too," "I´ll never forget you," "wait for me, it won´t take long"./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He dreamed on his true smile, the one he saw so rarely, that looked the same than the other, but that took his breath away. He dreamed of eyes bathed in their eternal moonlight before he made them detach and fall on the jungle

Why did Aphrodite have to die? Sure milo was not expecting the whole ïnfiltrating in the base"plan to be that easy. No, of course no. He knew there would have to be some trick to get in. It never occurred to him to ask. Earn their trust. Prove you were always forced to join the rebels. Prove that you were not one of them. And how? Well. It had been persuading, that was for /Aphrodite knew. The bastard knew. Shura knew too. They agreed. They both knew and blindsided him. He would beat the shit out of the sniper if he could get his hands on him. He would kiss him after, beg him never to leave him again and ride his brains out, but that was /Why Aphrodite and Shura? They were the oldest ones? Shion knew them and knew they would do the job if ordered to? Were the ones Saga had brought and the ones he knew the most about? Were they merely the right ones? If Milo had to choose one of them to do a suicidal job with a straight face, he would go for Aphrodite indeed. Why did Aphrodite have to be the one killed by him? Why THE BLOODY FUCK did he have to be the one?BR /He had broken the back of so many chairs between his hands because of that question he now only bought stools. Maybe it was the sniper's cursed sense of duty. He had trianed Milo, so if Milo fucked up and got himself and the bite captured and tortured until insanity it was his responsability to go through it because the failure was his? That soudned like somethign Aphrodite would think. He thought. He may be making things up. It has been so long ...and still, not long enought. Maybe APhro just wanted to say goodbye. Milo thought he had seen something like that in the beautiful blue eyes. Maybe he jsut wanted to see him before dying and did not ocur to him ...or actually... perhaps he knew Milo would want to say bye too. He laughted and threw a shirt over his tatooed body. He had work to /Maybe it was nto even about him. Maybe Shura just wanted to give Aiolia the chance to take revenge and blow his brains off, and his pairing with the sniper had only been a side effect. He did not know. He did not know Aphrodite well enought to even guess. He never would have the chance to know him, and at the same time he felt nobody would ever get to know him like the sniper did. Like he still does, in his memory, forever twenty five, handsome and inocent in his own, broken way, the most precious laughter on Earth and eyes up in the /The new recruits were too young, but that had ceased to surprise him long ago. He had to pick and train a couple of kids to do what he does. What Aphrodite still does for him, from wherever he is, whenever Milo's hand shakes, and his heart can't take it anymore. He has to break a kid. All he wants is the sniper, the real sniper, to come back and be through this with him too. Br /Still, his heart breaks and flutters at the same time. He has never done this; he will now. He will understand his lover a bit more, understand something he went through that Milo had not understood before.

Milo was insane, in his own opinion, but he didn't care. As far as he kept being able to find out things he never knew abour Aphrodite, to find new ways to interact with him, the sniper was not dead. He wasn't. It made sense in his head. He lived in that stary field more than he lived in the godforshaken desert he was in now. He was crazy, but he didn't care. In his madness time did nto exist. There he could kill in cold blood as if it was in self-defense, ad he could rest forever in the warm embrace of his one true love. He was not leaving that place for real, and Aiolia had finally stopped bringing the issue up.


End file.
